Alex’s Despair

Back in Tokyo, Alex sat in his expansive office, the city skyline stretching endlessly beyond the glass windows, but it all felt empty without Isabella. He had tried to focus on work, burying himself in meetings, business deals, and endless paperwork, but nothing could distract him from the gnawing ache in his chest.

Isabella was gone.

She hadn't left a trace, no explanation, no goodbye. And for the first time in his life, Alex Gray felt helpless.

He had thought he could control everything—his emotions, his business, even Isabella. But now, he realized how wrong he had been. His marriage to her, once a cold, calculated business arrangement, had transformed into something he couldn't understand. He had never admitted it to himself, but he had grown to care for her deeply. Too deeply.

Now, the silence in their home was suffocating. Without Isabella's presence, the house felt like a hollow shell. He tried to convince himself that he didn't need her, that he could go back to being the same cold, unfeeling man he had always been. But every corner of the house reminded him of her—the faint scent of her perfume still lingering in the air, the books she loved scattered around, the memory of her laughter that once filled the rooms.

It was driving him mad.

One evening, after another grueling day at work, Alex poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat in the darkened living room. He stared blankly at the liquid, his mind replaying every moment he had spent with Isabella—their arguments, their moments of tenderness, the way she had looked at him with those deep, expressive eyes.

He had been a fool.

How had he let her slip away? And why hadn't he stopped her when he realized she was pulling away? He had seen the signs—her coldness, the distance in her eyes—but he had been too proud to confront her. Too afraid to admit that she had become more than just his wife on paper. She had become the center of his world.

As the rain began to fall outside, Alex's phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen. It was Victor.

Victor had been keeping an eye on things since Isabella left, trying to track her down discreetly. Alex had resisted the urge to call her, to demand an explanation. But now, as the days passed, the weight of her absence was becoming unbearable.

He picked up the phone and answered. "Victor. Any news?"

Victor's voice crackled through the line. "She's in New York. I've confirmed it."

Alex's heart skipped a beat. New York. She had run as far as she could.

"There's something else," Victor added, his tone cautious.

"What is it?" Alex's voice was low, filled with a dangerous edge.

"Ethan's with her."

The name hit Alex like a punch to the gut. Ethan. Of course. He should have seen this coming. Ethan had always lingered around Isabella, pretending to be her friend, pretending to care. But now, Alex knew the truth. Ethan had been playing his own game all along.

Alex clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white. He felt the familiar burn of jealousy and anger rising inside him, but this time it wasn't just about losing control—it was about losing Isabella.

For the first time, he felt real fear. Fear that Ethan, with his manipulation and charm, might succeed in taking her away for good.

"I'm going to New York," Alex said abruptly, his decision made.

"Alex, are you sure that's wise?" Victor asked, his tone cautious. "If you confront her now—"

"I don't care," Alex cut him off. "I'm not losing her."

He ended the call, his heart pounding in his chest. Isabella was the only person who had ever seen past his cold exterior, the only person who had made him feel something real. He couldn't let her slip away into Ethan's grasp.

As he stood by the window, watching the rain pour down, Alex made a vow. He would go to New York, find Isabella, and make things right. Even if it meant facing his own demons, his own mistakes.

Because without her, none of it—the business, the power, the control—mattered anymore. She was the only thing that did.