Lu Zhe hung up Wendy's call and sped to campus, his face a storm of dread and exhaustion. The grueling ten-hour meeting had drained him, but Lila's disappearance was a gut-punch, twisting his chest with a dull, relentless ache.
He could've shrugged, scoffed, She got herself lost again. But joy wouldn't come—only a gnawing pain. Do I care about her?
If he'd answered her call last night, would this nightmare have been avoided?
"Was she kidnapped? Trafficked?" Wendy pounced on him like he was her lifeline, voice trembling.
Lu Zhe's mind churned, calculating. "Kidnapping's usually about money. It's been a day—no ransom calls. Her phone's dead, so probably not that."
Wendy nodded, clinging to his logic. "Then we call the cops."
He rubbed his temples. "Not enough time for a missing persons case. What're you reporting—'she's gone'?"
Every idea Wendy threw, he shot down, leaving her silent, waiting for his lead. In that moment, she saw why Lila struggled with him—his sharp tongue alone could suffocate.
But this wasn't the time for grudges. Lu Zhe dialed his secretary, rallying bodyguards and private investigators. By 10 p.m., a search team was ready.
"If there's no word by midnight, we file a report," he said, his heart a tangled mess. Fear? Worry? He couldn't name it—just that Lila's absence choked him, each breath heavy.
Am I in love? He sneered, muttering, "Some fiancé I am, losing my own bride. Lila, where are you?"
By 11:30 p.m., they'd scoured half of A City—no trace. Wendy collapsed on the curb, tears brimming. "What if she's not in A City? Where do we even look?"
Lila was her best friend; the thought of her vanishing was unbearable.
Lu Zhe's eyes reddened, the night wind stinging like knives. "Crying won't help. Pull it together."
"What about Vanessa?" Wendy blurted, fury flashing. "She's always hated Lila." She hesitated, eyeing Lu Zhe—Vanessa was his childhood sweetheart, after all.
"Vanessa…" Lu Zhe echoed, her face flickering in his mind. She wouldn't go that far. She was spoiled, jealous, messy—but evil? No. Yet doubt crept in. Her "pranks" at the engagement and Grandma's birthday weren't accidents—they were calculated.
He'd dismissed them, believing her claims of "liking Lila." Was I blind?
"Probably not her," he said, voice flat. "Who else did you call?"
"Chen Yu," Wendy said. "He's a tech whiz, tracking her phone."
Lu Zhe's brow twitched at the name, but he stayed silent.
At 11:40 p.m., their phones pinged: "Lila's at A City Guanshan Hospital, Inpatient Ward, 3rd Floor."
Lu Zhe stared, Wendy leaning in. "You got it too? Not from Chen Yu."
He nodded. "Let's go. Call to confirm."
He floored the gas, racing to the hospital, while Wendy dialed Chen Yu to join them.
At the ward, Lu Zhe eased the door open, heart pounding. There she was—Lila, pale and asleep on the bed. Relief washed over him, loosening the vise on his chest.
He approached, brushing her forehead—still warm, but stable. "Found you," he whispered, voice soft as a secret. "When you wake, you're in so much trouble."
He grabbed hot water, wiping her face and hands, then quizzed the nurse. "A man, maybe mid-30s, masked and sunglassed, brought her at 3 a.m.," she said. "Stayed till afternoon, said someone would come tonight."
Security footage showed a cautious figure, bulky, dodging cameras. Lu Zhe's head throbbed, no answers forming. He tasked his PI with tracing the text.
Wendy and Chen Yu burst in. "It's a burner number, not me," Wendy said.
Chen Yu's face was thunder, swinging a fist at Lu Zhe's gut. "You were supposed to protect her!"
Wendy yanked him back—it was a hospital. Lu Zhe didn't retaliate, landing a light jab to cool Chen Yu's rage. "If anything happens to her, you're done," Chen Yu growled.
Wendy hovered by Lila's bed, brows knit as Lila stirred, troubled even in sleep. "What happened to you?" she whispered, clutching her hand, tears falling.
"Enough," Chen Yu said, acting like family. "Go home—it's late. I'll stay."
Wendy nodded, ready to leave, but Lu Zhe stood firm. "I'm her fiancé. Why should I go? You leave."
Chen Yu's eyes blazed. "Fiancé? Wendy called you a million times—where were you? Lila called you last night—where were you? If you'd answered, would she be here?"
Lu Zhe faltered, voice low. "I was in a ten-hour meeting. Phone was with my secretary."
Chen Yu scoffed. "Ten hours? In love with your desk? I dropped everything for Lila—you chose profit over her safety."
His voice cracked, gaze on Lila, heart splintering. I told her not to fall for him. Pointless, reckless love…
"She's my treasure," Chen Yu said, voice raw. "I'd hold her close. You? If you can't protect her, let her go—don't keep her just to break her."
He grabbed Lu Zhe's collar, eyes burning with unyielding love—a depth Lu Zhe couldn't match. Guilt, pain, and jealousy churned in him.
"Think I don't care? Fine. But I'm not letting Lila go," Lu Zhe said, resolute, though he couldn't untangle his own feelings—regret, duty, or something deeper.
He regretted missing her call, that meeting, but it wasn't optional—it carried the Lu family's fate.
Chen Yu was right—he was a cold businessman, bound by family, elders, legacy. Lila came last.
"Get out," Chen Yu snarled, grabbing a chair to swing. Normally calm, Lila's crisis unhinged him. "She doesn't need you."
Lu Zhe glanced at Lila, not wanting to wake her, and left silently. In the corridor, he punched the wall, pain absent.
Am I wrong? Why does Chen Yu's every word cut so deep?
He didn't leave, lingering at the corridor's end, staring at her door, lost.
At 3 a.m., his secretary called: "Emergency meeting, three hours, requested by the client."
"You haven't slept in over a day," she warned. "You won't hold up."
"Start in twenty," Lu Zhe said. "Make it quick."
He drove to the office, downing coffee his secretary prepped. The meeting room was tense—his foul mood silenced everyone.
The clients droned, piling on absurd demands, acting like the Lus needed them. Normally, Lu Zhe would play diplomat. Not today.
"If you think the Lus aren't worth your time, say it," he snapped. "Your demands? Non-starters. Sign the deal or get out."
The clients froze. Lu Zhe, usually tactful, was a blade today. They had fame, but the Lus had market control—they'd come begging.
The Lus had been gracious hosts, but the clients got greedy, assuming Lu Zhe would cave.
"Think hard," he said, fingers tapping like a countdown. "We're not mute. Want to deal? Show sincerity. If not, don't waste my time."
"End the call. No deal."
Silence gripped the room. Months of prep, tanked. A loss for the Lus—but Lu Zhe didn't flinch.