The desperate Lovers

Chapter 32: The Edge of Darkness

The night was thick with tension as Alexander drove toward the old pier. The city lights faded behind him, swallowed by the vast emptiness of the docks. Each turn of the wheel felt heavier, his mind calculating every possible scenario. He knew this was a trap—but he needed answers.

Parking his car a safe distance away, he stepped out, his sharp eyes scanning the area. The air smelled of salt and rust, the creak of wooden planks the only sound breaking the silence. He reached beneath his coat, fingers brushing against the cold metal of his gun.

His phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: You're late. Walk to the end of the pier. Alone.

Alexander exhaled sharply, then strode forward, every step precise, controlled.

A figure emerged from the shadows—a man in a hooded jacket. His face remained obscured, his stance relaxed yet guarded.

"You wanted answers," the man said, his voice slightly distorted. "I'm here to give them."

Alexander's expression remained unreadable. "Who are you?"

The man chuckled. "Someone who's been where you are. Someone who learned too late that loving the wrong woman comes at a cost."

Alexander's jaw tightened. "Victoria."

The man nodded. "She's not working alone."

Alexander already suspected that much. "Who's backing her?"

The man hesitated. Then, finally, he spoke. "Richard Langford."

The name hit Alexander like a punch to the gut. Victoria's father. A ruthless businessman known for controlling everything—and everyone—in his orbit.

"This isn't just about revenge, Knight," the man continued. "Langford doesn't just want to ruin you. He wants Isabella out of the picture—for good."

A slow, burning rage coiled in Alexander's chest. His fingers curled into fists. "If he lays a hand on her—"

The man shook his head. "It may already be too late."

The words sent a spike of fear through Alexander's heart.

Without wasting another second, he turned and sprinted back to his car, his pulse hammering in his ears.

He needed to get back to Isabella. Now.

---

Isabella's Fear

The penthouse felt too quiet. Too still.

Isabella sat curled on the couch, trying to ignore the gnawing worry in her stomach. She had been checking her phone every few minutes, waiting for Alexander's call.

Something didn't feel right.

A sudden knock at the door made her jump.

Her heart pounded as she stood, hesitating.

"Who's there?" she called out.

No answer.

Another knock.

A cold shiver ran down her spine. Slowly, she reached for the door handle, her breath shallow.

As soon as she turned the knob, a gloved hand shot out, clamping over her mouth.

She let out a muffled scream, struggling against the iron grip.

Darkness swallowed her whole.

---

The Note That Changed Everything

Alexander's car screeched to a halt outside the penthouse. He didn't bother turning off the engine as he leaped out, racing toward the door.

Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones.

The front door was ajar.

His heart pounded as he pushed it open, stepping inside. The scent of her perfume still lingered in the air—but Isabella was gone.

Then he saw it.

A single note sat on the coffee table, written in sharp, deliberate strokes.

"If you love her… Surrender."

Alexander's grip on the paper tightened, his vision darkening with rage.

They had taken her.

And God help whoever was responsible—because Alexander Knight was about to burn the world down to get her back.

To be continued…