THE KING'S FRUSTRATION
David's Rolls Royce slid into the underground garage of his majestic office building. His face was grim, the shadows of his meeting with Natasha and Kael's message still burning in his mind. The moment he arrived in his top-floor office, he pressed the intercom button.
"Raka, in. Now."
A few seconds later, his head of private security, Raka—a sturdy man with a cold expression who had worked for him for ten years—stood before his desk.
"What do you need, Mr. David?"
"Elara has disappeared. I want you to deploy all resources. Track her credit cards, her phone, all traffic cameras on the routes she might have taken yesterday. Check every five-star hotel within a 100-kilometer radius. I want to know where she is right now."
Raka nodded without question. "I'll mobilize the team, Sir."
A FUTILE SEARCH
For the next six hours, David's office became the command center of the search. The security team and several people from the IT division worked non-stop.
Report after report came in, and all were fruitless.
"Mrs. Elara's credit card shows no transactions in the last 48 hours, Sir."
"Her phone's GPS is turned off.Last detected in our residential area before the signal disappeared."
"From CCTV footage,Mrs. Elara's car was seen heading east on the toll road. But then it disappeared in an area with minimal CCTV coverage."
"We've contacted 28 five-star hotels.No guest named Elara Putri or Davina Yang has checked in."
David stood before the glass panel overlooking the entire city, his back tense. His money and power were useless. For the first time, there was something—or someone—who could completely disappear from his radar.
FLASHBACK: THE ALIAS OF "THE MAIDEN"
David's mind suddenly drifted back to an evening years ago. He and Elara were strolling through an art market in Ubud, Bali. Elara was drawn to the paintings of a local artist named "Kartika," whose works were full of bold colors depicting strong women.
"I love her work. But I love her alias even more," Elara said with a smile. "She chose the name 'Kartika' instead of her real name, so the world only sees her work, not her background."
"Why not just use her real name?" David asked at the time.
"Because a name can sometimes be a cage, David. An alias can be freedom. Like me... sometimes I wish I could be someone who isn't 'Elara' or 'Davina,' but just a woman with a pseudonym, free from all expectations."
David had only nodded then, not fully understanding. But Elara later joked, "If I ever disappear one day, maybe I'll use the name 'Kartika'."
A REALIZATION THAT DAWNS
David turned around. His eyes swept across the room filled with monitors and staff still busy searching. A hunch whispered to him.
"Raka!"
"Yes,Sir?"
"Try checking...check hotel guests with the name 'Kartika'. Or other artist names. Painters. Poets. Anyone Elara admires."
Raka looked confused but immediately gave orders to the IT team. The search began again with new parameters.
But even that was too broad. Elara was an art curator. Her knowledge of artists was vast. She could choose any name from hundreds of artists she admired. She wasn't just hiding physically; she was hiding behind an identity only she understood.
David finally realized the folly. He could buy the hotel where Elara was staying, but he didn't know where it was. He could bribe anyone, but there was no one to bribe because no one knew.
A SILENT NIGHT
Night fell once again. The search was temporarily halted. David sat alone in his dark office, illuminated only by the city lights from behind the glass.
His head hung low. He always thought love was like business—something that could be analyzed, controlled, and won. But Elara proved otherwise. Love, in the end, is about trust. And when that trust is gone, all that remains is a departure without a trace.
He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a small photo album he rarely opened. There were photos from their early marriage. Elara laughing freely, without burden. David looking at her with pride. They looked like an unbeatable team.
Now, he didn't even know where his wife was sleeping tonight. Was she safe? Was she also looking at the same moon and feeling the same loneliness?
His phone vibrated. A message from Kael.
Kael: "Found Elara yet?"
David wanted to smash his phone. But he restrained himself. Revenge wasn't the answer. He stared at the message, then chose not to reply. Kael wanted to provoke him, wanted him to suffer.
But David's greatest suffering wasn't because of Kael's message. His suffering was the not knowing. The inability. And the piercing regret that he was the one who pushed Elara to have to disappear so perfectly like this.
A NEW DECISION
David stood up and walked to the window. The city below was full of lights, each point of light perhaps a family, a story, a home.
He realized something. Searching for Elara with power and money was an insult to her intelligence and independence. Elara wanted to be found, but not in this way. She wanted to be found by a David who understood, not by a David who controlled.
He made a decision. Tomorrow morning, he would stop all searches with his team. He would look for Elara in his own way. A way that might be slower, more uncertain, but more honest.
He would go to places that meant something to them. The first art gallery where they met. The small café where they often had breakfast early in their marriage. The park where Alisha learned to walk.
Maybe it was a naive effort. But at least, it was an effort from the heart. Not from a bank account or a security team.
David looked at the night sky. "Wherever you are, Elara," he whispered, "I will search for you not as the powerful David Yang. But as David, your husband, who finally understands that losing you is the greatest loss of my life."