Chapter 452

Vivian's pulse stuttered before she regained composure. "Evelyn, explain clearly," she demanded, voice tight with tension. "Take a breath and tell me exactly what happened."

"I had this awful feeling," Evelyn gasped between sobs. "When I checked Adrian's playroom, he was gone. I searched the entire Bali estate—nothing. He's just a little boy, Miss Lockhart. What if someone took him? What do we do?"

Her words came in broken fragments, each syllable laced with guilt. Vivian had entrusted the twins to her care, and this lapse felt unforgivable. The weight of failure pressed down until Evelyn could barely breathe.

Vivian's world tilted.

The phone nearly slipped from her grasp as the words struck like a physical blow. Adrian and Abigail were her reason for breathing, her anchors in every storm. Now one had vanished without a trace.

Her usual steel resolve shattered. In this moment, she wasn't the formidable CEO—just a terrified mother.

Nathaniel intercepted the spiraling panic. Taking the phone, his calm voice cut through the chaos. "Evelyn, pull up the security feeds. Check for notes. That boy's cleverer than most adults—he wouldn't go quietly. Stay sharp."

"R-right away!"

Evelyn scrambled toward the surveillance hub. Nathaniel had installed military-grade systems across the Bali property after the last threat. Motion sensors, panic buttons, a small army of ex-special forces guards—nothing should've penetrated their defenses.

Vivian's nails bit into her palms.

A realization struck. "Put Abigail on," she ordered, voice like tempered glass. Their daughter's recent behavior—the dodged video calls, the sudden clinginess—it all made terrible sense now.

Evelyn hesitated. "She's distraught, Miss Lockhart. It took hours to calm her—"

"Now."

The command brooked no argument. Abigail's theatrics couldn't fool her mother. That child was hiding something.

As Evelyn hurried off, William caught fragments of the crisis. He leaned toward Sophia. "The Lockhart child is missing?"

Sophia's warning glance held layers of meaning. "Not a word to anyone. Those twins are her entire world."

William's jaw tightened.

Something about this felt wrong. Deeply wrong.

"Abigail," Evelyn's voice carried through the speaker, gently insistent. "Your mother needs to speak with you. Wake up, sweetheart."