, but his triplets knew she was leaving because she had discovered something terrifying.

A raw, agonizing roar ripped from Richard’s throat.

"Marcus!" Richard bellowed, his voice shaking the crystal on the table.

"Sir!" the head of security jumped forward.

"Where is she?" Richard demanded, grabbing the lapels of Marcus’s uniform jacket. "Emily! Where did she go?!"

"Sir, she... she left on foot toward the bus stop on 4th Avenue about twenty minutes ago—"

Richard didn't wait to hear another word. He shoved past Marcus, bolted out of the dining room, and sprinted down the grand marble hallway toward the front entrance, abandoning the dinner table, the wedding plans, and his multi-billion-dollar composure.

Behind him, Victoria was immediately grabbed by security, but Richard didn't care about her anymore. She was a ghost. His entire focus, his entire soul, was consumed by a crushing wave of panic.

He burst through the heavy front doors of the mansion, bursting out into the bright afternoon sunlight.

He didn't bother waiting for a car. He threw open the driver's side door of his personal SUV parked in the circular drive, jumped behind the wheel, started the engine with a roar of tires against the gravel, and sped down the private estate road like a madman.

How could I have been so blind? the thought hammered mercilessly against his skull. How could I throw out a woman who loved my sons more than I did? How could I call her a thief when she was the only shield standing between my family and a murderer?

He tore past the gates of the private neighborhood, scanning the sidewalks frantically.

Pedestrians turned and stared in shock as the billionaire tech icon’s luxury vehicle drifted around the corner of 4th Avenue, tires squealing against the asphalt.

And then, half a block ahead near the public bus stop, he saw her.

Emily Carter.

She was walking slowly, dragging her cheap rolling suitcase behind her, her head bowed against the wind, still wearing her dark blue maid uniform with the yellow cleaning gloves dangling from her pocket. She looked so small, so defenseless against the sprawling backdrop of the city.