Intervention

It had been three weeks since I went to the penthouse and drowned in my own pit of self-despair. My routine was eating, sleeping, and repeat. I was stuck in my bed, wanting nothing more than the nightmare I was living to end.

Every day like clockwork, I called Lorenzo, and every day like clockwork, he told me they were close to finding Nikolai. I convinced myself that he was getting closer when deep down I knew that he was telling me that to make me feel better.

Hope was a fickle bitch and for the past few days, it was hitting me how true that statement was. My phone buzzed with a text and I furrowed my eyebrows wondering who that could be.

When I saw who had texted, I saw that it was an unknown number. I read the text and saw that it was Corinna telling me that she was at the entrance of the hotel room and she was coming up with the paperwork.

Through the haze of it all, I had forgotten that I was a CFO of a multi-billionaire company that needed running. I sent her a quick text askin