Snowfall of Fear

The warmth of the hotel lobby offered a stark contrast to the cold, snowy night outside. The fire crackled softly in the background as Adrian ended his business call, his expression serious. Hannah stood near the window, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"How many calls do you get in a day, Adrian?" she asked, half teasing, half genuine.

Adrian glanced up from his phone, his features softening at the sight of her. "I'm sorry, Hannah. You know how it is with the business. It's hard to disconnect."

Just as he stepped closer, his phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with another incoming call. Adrian sighed, his face tightening. Hannah raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. "Business never stops, does it?"

He glanced down at the phone, his expression apologetic. "I really need to take this one. It's important."

Hannah's smile faltered slightly, though she nodded. "Go ahead," she said. "I'll wait."

Adrian answered the call, his voice immediately shifting into a more professional tone. "Yes, what's the status?" he asked, pacing slightly as he spoke.

Hannah listened for a moment, hearing snippets of his conversation—something about a contract deadline and a shipment issue. His voice grew firm, and it became clear that the call would take longer than a few minutes. She bit her lip, feeling the familiar pang of his work pulling him away.

After a few more exchanges on the call, Adrian sighed heavily. He looked at her, clearly frustrated with the constant interruptions. "Why don't you head inside and relax? I'll be right behind you," he said, his tone softer now, trying to make up for it.

Hannah nodded, though she could see how tired he looked. She offered a small, understanding smile. "Don't be too long."

"I won't," he promised, his gaze lingering on her as she walked toward the room, her silhouette disappearing into the soft glow of the hallway.

As soon as Hannah disappeared behind the door, Adrian made his way outside, the cold biting at his skin as he hurried to the car. From the trunk, he retrieved a small bag—the gift he had bought for her earlier that day. He looked at it, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. This was something special, something that would always remind her of their time in Aspen. He wanted it to be perfect.

Adrian made his way back to the hotel, stopping at the front desk. The receptionist greeted him with a warm smile. "Sir, how can I assist you?"

"Can you do me a favor?" Adrian asked, holding up the gift. "Could you have this delivered to my wife's room? I'd like it to be a surprise."

The receptionist nodded. "Of course, sir. I'll make sure it's delivered right away."

Inside the hotel room, Hannah was busy unpacking, humming softly to herself. The room was cozy, filled with the subtle scent of pine and the warmth of the fire that flickered in the corner. Just as she zipped up her suitcase, a knock came at the door.

She hurried to answer it, and the waiter stood there with a small bag in hand. "Ma'am, this is for you. Sir asked me to deliver it."

Hannah looked surprised. "Where is he?"

The waiter shook his head. "I'm not sure, ma'am. He didn't say."

Curiosity piqued, Hannah thanked the waiter and took the bag. She set it down on the bed, carefully untying the ribbon. Inside, she found a beautifully crafted snow globe, with a miniature of Aspen's iconic mountains and trees, dusted in sparkling snow. A note accompanied it:

"For all the memories we're making here. - Adrian"

Hannah smiled, touched by the gesture. She glanced at her phone and noticed Adrian still hadn't returned. She decided to call him, but the line wasn't connecting. Frowning, she dialed again—still nothing.

Feeling uneasy, Hannah slipped on her coat and boots. She stepped out of the room and made her way to the lobby, hoping to find Adrian. The snowfall outside was heavier now, swirling in the wind like a blanket of white.

She approached the front desk. "Excuse me, have you seen my husband?"

The receptionist shook her head. "Not recently, ma'am."

Hannah's worry deepened. She stepped out into the cold, pulling her coat tighter around her as she tried calling Adrian again, but still no answer. Her breath came out in soft puffs as she scanned the snow-covered streets, hoping to spot him somewhere in the flurry of falling snow.

Meanwhile, Michael drove recklessly, his mind filled with bitterness. His thoughts raced, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. "I'll show him," he muttered to himself, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "I'll show Adrian he's not untouchable."

Back on the quiet streets of Aspen, Adrian finished his call and made his way toward the penthouse suite. He was eager to see Hannah's reaction to the gift, imagining her smile when she saw it. But as he entered the suite, he found it empty.

Confused, he stepped out into the hallway and spotted the same waiter who had delivered the gift. "Excuse me, have you seen my wife?"

The waiter nodded. "Yes, sir. She went outside looking for you a little while ago."

Adrian's heart sank. He hurried back outside, scanning the snow-covered grounds, the night illuminated by the soft glow of street lamps. Where could she have gone? He pulled out his phone to call her, but his signal was weak in the storm. He cursed under his breath, quickening his pace through the snow, worried now that she was wandering in the cold.

Hannah walked through the falling snow, her phone still in her hand, glancing at it every few seconds in hopes of seeing Adrian's name appear. She felt a strange knot in her stomach, a sense that something wasn't right.

Just then, she heard the screech of tires. Her head snapped toward the sound, and in the distance, she saw a car speeding recklessly down the street. 

As Hannah turned back toward the hotel, she saw a group of people gathering around something in the road. Her heart raced, and she quickened her pace, the snow falling faster now, making it hard to see.

"Excuse me," she called out to one of the bystanders, her voice trembling. "What happened?"

"A man's been hit," someone responded, concern evident in their tone. "A car sped off before anyone could get the number."

Hannah felt her blood run cold. "Who—who was it?"

"They took him to the St. Mary's hospital. He looked like a young man. Rich, by the looks of it," another person added, glancing toward the distant ambulance lights still fading into the snowstorm.

Hannah took a step forward, something caught her eye—a glint in the snow. She froze, her breath hitching in her throat. There, lying in the slush near the curb, was a phone. Her heart pounded as she took a shaky step closer, dread tightening her chest.

It was Adrian's phone.

"No..." she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the falling snow. Hannah's fingers trembled as she bent down to pick it up, her body suddenly feeling too heavy. The phone was cold, the screen cracked, but unmistakably his.

Hannah's heart dropped. Without thinking, she sprinted toward the nearest taxi, barely feeling the cold biting at her skin. "Take me to the St. Mary's Hospital !" she shouted.

The driver, sensing her panic, wasted no time. The car sped off, tires skidding slightly on the slick road. Hannah's mind raced faster than the car, terror gripping her with every passing second. It can't be Adrian. Please, not Adrian.