Chapter 260: Kidnapped
Chapter 260: Kidnapped
Why Serena had followed them all the way to the Maldives, Elias did not know.
What interested him more was the restraint she had shown.
Serena had always worn kindness well in public. She could smile at investors, speak gently to doctors, and make an entire conference room feel as though she were listening to each person alone. It was polished, effective, and almost entirely false. Elias knew what sat underneath it. He had seen the possessive temper, the need to control every door around him, and the way her gentleness vanished when nobody else was watching.
Yet she had just seen him walking hand in hand with Giselle.
Not merely holding hands. Their fingers had been locked together.
His hair was still damp. His lips were visibly swollen. Serena had no reason to know that he and Giselle had been in the pool, but the obvious explanation was not likely to be innocent. She could easily imagine them in the hotel suite, behind a closed bathroom door, doing whatever her mind wanted to punish her with.
Still, Serena had said nothing.
She had not even looked at him.
The only sign of her mood had been the cold that seemed to follow her into the elevator.
That level of self-control was almost impressive. It put her close to Liora, which was probably why the two of them had become family in the first place.
"Elias."
He did not respond.
"Elias."
The second call pulled him out of his thoughts.
Giselle stood beside the table with a plate in both hands. She had brought back more food than he expected: grilled fish with citrus, warm flatbread, a small bowl of rice, roasted vegetables, and a dessert arranged so carefully it looked more like a display than something intended to be eaten.
Her face was calm.
Her eyes were not.
There was a trace of coolness in them, and a muted displeasure that would have been easy to miss if Elias had not spent the last few days studying every small change in her expression.
Ah.
He had been thinking about Serena for too long.
That was inconvenient.
He had not been remembering Serena fondly. Far from it. He had been wondering what that woman who deserved to be strung up by her own plans was doing here, and how much trouble she had brought with her. But from Giselle’s perspective, he had simply gone quiet after seeing his former lover.
The distinction probably did not help.
Elias did not feel guilty. Guilt was not a language he spoke with any fluency. Still, he felt a little sorry for Giselle. This trip had been supposed to be theirs. He had intended to spend it strengthening her favorability, enjoying the resort, and making the most of a rare stretch of uninterrupted time together.
Then Serena had appeared out of nowhere and spoiled the atmosphere.
Elias smiled.
Before Giselle could sit across from him, he reached for her hand and tugged her down into the chair beside his.
The gesture had one meaning in his mind: do not neglect one woman just because another one shows up.
Giselle read something else entirely.
He had noticed that she was unhappy. He had guessed why. Now he was trying to soothe her because Serena had been on his mind.
Because of another woman.
The thought landed badly.
Giselle’s expression did not change, but the faint cold in her eyes deepened. She let herself sit beside him and kept her hand where he had placed it, telling herself that there was no reason to make the moment difficult. Elias was trying. He was doing his best to show her that he had not been affected by Serena’s appearance.
At least, that was what it looked like.
Elias, unaware of the disaster he had just created, became more animated.
He commented on the food. He described the view from the window. He asked whether they could go down to the beach early the next morning. He kept the energy he had shown on the plane, bright and warm, hoping that it would make Giselle feel better.
The meal was excellent.
Giselle barely tasted it.
The more cheerful Elias became, the more she wondered whether he was trying too hard. He had been silent after they saw Serena. Now he was suddenly eager, attentive, and lively. There had to be a reason for the change.
Was he trying to prove that Serena did not matter?
The thought should have helped.
Instead, it made everything worse.
Giselle’s fingers tightened around her fork. The metal bent almost imperceptibly beneath the pressure before she forced herself to loosen her hand.
Elias noticed.
He paused with his own utensils in hand.
She was still unhappy.
He had tried to be warm. He had tried to make up for the interruption. He had stayed beside her, held her hand, and given her all the attention he could without climbing into her lap in the middle of the restaurant.
Nothing worked.
After a moment, he set his fork down.
His lips pressed together. Both hands came to rest on his knees. He lowered his head and went quiet.
Giselle looked at him.
"What’s wrong?"
Elias did not answer.
The message was simple enough.
You are unhappy, so I am not hungry anymore.
It was unreasonable. It was manipulative. It was extremely effective.
[System Theta: ...]
System Theta watched in silence.
Elias had somehow failed to understand why Giselle was upset, yet he had still found the one response most likely to make her forget the feeling. It was frightening in a way even the system had difficulty explaining.
Giselle studied him for several seconds.
Then she understood what he was trying to say.
He had noticed her mood. He did not know what caused it, so he had become subdued too. In his mind, her unhappiness meant the safety of the place he depended on had gone cold. He could not enjoy dinner when she was unhappy. He could not simply continue eating while the person beside him withdrew.
The realization softened something in her despite herself.
It made him seem like a fragile climbing vine, sensitive to every shift in the support that held him up. When her mood dimmed, his followed it without resistance.
Giselle hated that it worked.
She pressed down the irritation she still felt and gave him a small smile. It was not entirely real, but it was gentle.
"What is it?" she asked. "Do you not like the food?"
Elias lifted his head cautiously.
He saw her smile, saw that the gloom had left her face, and his expression eased.
"No," he said. "It’s good. I like it."
The dinner did not return to normal.
There was still an awkwardness between them, too much silence left after the things neither had said. But Elias picked up his fork again. Giselle did the same, determined not to make her feelings visible. They finished the meal with more quiet than conversation.
Then a familiar voice called from across the restaurant.
"Sweetheart. Hi."
Elias looked up.
Melinda sat at a table near the windows with the two friends who had been lounging with her in the lobby. She lifted one hand in a cheerful wave. Her smile was warm, but this time she stayed where she was.
Giselle’s fingers found Elias’s at once.
Elias leaned into her side without thinking, letting the gesture carry the careful dependence Giselle had already decided he needed. Melinda saw it. Her smile turned knowing for a moment, but she only returned to her friends and continued their conversation.
She had learned her lesson.
Or at least learned enough not to rush over and reach for him again.
Oddly, the small interruption eased the tension at the table. Giselle had something else to focus on. Elias had someone else to quietly distrust. By the time dessert arrived, they were able to speak normally again.
When the meal ended, Giselle stood.
"Let’s go."
She reached for Elias’s hand.
He slipped free before she could take it.
"I need to use the restroom."
Giselle blinked, then nodded. "All right."
Elias headed toward the hallway that led to the restrooms on that floor.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Guess what I’m going to do now," he asked System Theta.
[System Theta: Use the restroom?]
"Wrong."
[System Theta: Host, behind you!]
The warning came too late.
Someone moved out from the recessed service corridor behind him. A cloth covered Elias’s mouth and nose before he could turn. An arm locked around his throat and pulled him back against a body he could not see.
He tried to struggle.
There was no pain. Only pressure, the sharp shock of being caught, and the sudden uselessness of his own strength. His hands caught at the wrist across his neck, but the grip held. The cloth cut off his breath, and his thoughts began to fracture almost immediately.
His knees weakened.
The polished hallway blurred.
Then the lights disappeared.
The person who took him had prepared carefully. Elias had stepped into a blind spot between security cameras, a narrow section of corridor where the hotel’s elegant design created just enough cover. The attack was quick, controlled, and nearly invisible.
Nearly.
Melinda had been on her way toward the restroom herself when she saw it.
She stopped behind the corner before the scream could leave her.
Her hand clamped over her mouth.
For a second, all she could do was stare as the unconscious boy was dragged into the service corridor and swallowed by the shadows beyond it.
Her first instinct was to call for help.
Her second was clearer.
The silver-haired girl.
She needed to find Giselle.