The Rogue's Scent

VANESSA

"FABIAN!" I screamed, my voice breaking as I tore through the villa. Blood smeared my skin, dripping from cuts that hadn't yet healed. I didn't care. Nothing mattered except finding my son.

Roman's voice thundered behind me. "Marcus, take the east perimeter! Gage, secure the beach! Find my son!"

I couldn't wait for them. Every second felt like an eternity, each heartbeat hammering against my ribs with sickening force. My bare feet slapped against the marble floor as I sprinted down the hallway, throwing open doors and calling Fabian's name.

Empty bedroom. Empty bathroom. Empty office.

"Fabian!" I screamed again, panic clawing up my throat.

The kitchen. I had to check the kitchen. He loved sneaking snacks when he thought no one was looking.

I skidded around the corner, nearly collapsing as I rushed inside. My eyes frantically scanned the room—spotless countertops, gleaming appliances, and there—on the table—a half-eaten sandwich.