Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir

164. We'll be there.

I try to call Coraline from all the communications devices we have at home, and when they don’t work, burrow the ones that even the security team has.

But none of the calls connect through, and the automatic voice from the other side says that Coraline’s phone is out of range or turned off. None of the texts I send gets seen, much lead read.

“This is not good,” I say to Gerald, calling her number for the hundredth time, this time from a new phone I just brought from a shop. My mind races, frantic, trying not to come up with eh worst scenarios possible for the lack of contact, but I cannot torture myself that way without having the evidence to back it up, so I hold it wall at bay. But by now, my hands and voice are shaking like a young leaf in the wind, and I feel like throwing up. The light-heartedness I’d started to feel before Lemon’s call came has disappeared, gone in the wind. Now only dread remains, and it makes my blood run colder with every failed attempt to get in touch with t