The Billionaire And His One Night Stand

Los Angeles, Sebastian

After sending the message to Mia, I knew that the ball was in her court now. I desperately wanted to hear her voice, to reassure her, and to let her know what was happening. But my commitment to honesty meant I had to wait for her to call back, a moment of anticipation that weighed heavily on me.

I decided to clear my mind by taking a shower. The hot water cascaded over me, soothing my tense muscles, and allowing my thoughts to drift back to Mia. As the steam filled the bathroom, I couldn’t help but hope she was safe and that nothing untoward would happen to her throughout the day.

The warm water did its part in relieving some of the tension that had built up within me, and by the time I stepped out of the shower, I felt more collected. I dried off, wrapped a towel around my waist, and made my way to the bedroom.

Dressing for work felt like a mechanical process, my mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Mia. I combed my hair and attempted to bring some order to my appearance. My attire was carefully selected but lacked the usual enthusiasm I had for dressing up.

My reflection in the mirror showed a man whose mind was far away, lost in a labyrinth of emotions. I knew that the day ahead held important meetings and pressing responsibilities, but my thoughts were never far from my wife.

After finally finishing my morning routine, I descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. Breakfast was a simple affair today, consisting of a bowl of cereal and a steaming cup of coffee. The sound of the cereal grains hitting the porcelain bowl seemed louder than usual, almost echoing the solitude I felt at that moment.

As I took the first bite of cereal, the flavors felt bland, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed me in recent hours. I sipped my coffee, the warmth spreading through me but failing to chase away the chill of uncertainty that lingered in the air.

With breakfast complete, I gathered my briefcase and the files I needed for the day’s meetings. The familiar sound of my car keys jingling in my hand was a stark reminder that the day was moving forward, regardless of the tumultuous morning I had experienced.

I walked out to my car, the sunlight filtering through the trees and creating dappled patterns on the pavement. The world around me seemed to carry on with its usual routine, oblivious to the turmoil that had shaken my own existence.

As I settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, my reluctance to head to work remained. The responsibilities and commitments that awaited me there had always been a driving force, but today they felt like a burden I had to bear.

The drive to work was filled with silence, the radio remaining off. My mind was too preoccupied with Mia and the unresolved situation that had unfolded in the morning. Every street I passed, every building I saw, reminded me of her.

I knew that I had to be at my best for the upcoming meetings, to fulfill the professional duties that awaited me. But even as I pulled into the parking lot, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness and frustration.

As I stepped into the office building, the bustling atmosphere of coworkers moving about and the familiar sights and sounds of the workplace surrounded me. The weight of responsibility was as tangible as the air I breathed, and I braced myself for the day ahead.

The meetings were important, and I needed to be fully present. It was a test of my ability to compartmentalize my emotions, to set aside the personal turmoil and focus on the professional tasks at hand. I couldn’t allow my concerns for Mia to cloud my judgment or hinder my performance.

Inside the conference room, the discussions began, and I forced myself to engage fully, to listen intently, and to contribute to the proceedings. It was a deliberate effort, a tightrope walk between personal and professional commitments.

Amidst the speaker’s words, I sensed a subtle motion to my side, something that broke the concentration I had built up over the course of the presentation. My assistant, who had been sitting beside me, leaned in closer, her eyes filled with a sense of urgency.

My heart skipped a beat. What could be so important that she would interrupt the presentation? Was it Mia? A wave of fear washed over me, and I quickly excused myself from the room, making my way out.

Once in the corridor, I reached her, my brows furrowed with concern. “What happened?” I asked tersely, the anxiety in my voice impossible to conceal.

My assistant met my gaze, her expression serious. “You have a call, sir. It’s important,” she replied, holding a phone out to me.

My thoughts raced. I had feared that something had happened to Mia, but my assistant’s demeanor didn’t convey that kind of urgency. If it wasn’t about my wife, then what could be so crucial? Still, I couldn’t help but hope that my fears had been unfounded.

I took the phone from her hand, a sense of trepidation coursing through me. My fingers tightened around the device as I brought it to my ear. “Thornton,” I said tersely, my voice tinged with unease.

On the other end of the line, I heard a voice I didn’t recognize, distorted by some kind of software to make it sound different. The artificial tone sent a shiver down my spine. “Sebastian,” the voice said in a monotonous, almost robotic manner. “I only have one thing to say.”

My heart raced, and I couldn’t help but tense at the implications of the mysterious call. My immediate thought went to Mia. Were they threatening her? The voice continued, “Come in one hour under the bridge that’s not far from your company. The red bridge. If you want to keep your wife safe.”

The message sent a shockwave of panic through me. I was torn between a rising sense of fear and the necessity to respond. “What?!” I started, my voice filled with incredulity and anger, but before I could press for more information, the call abruptly ended.

I stared at the phone, my mind racing, and my heart pounding in my chest. The threats were mounting, and the unknown caller had dragged Mia into this perilous situation. The weight of the message, the urgency in the voice, left me feeling powerless and vulnerable.

The red bridge was a known landmark, not far from my company. Its structure held an air of familiarity, but now it represented a foreboding future, one filled with uncertainty and danger. I couldn’t fathom the motive behind this ominous call, but one thing was clear: I had to respond, I had to ensure Mia’s safety.

My assistant watched me, her eyes filled with concern. “Sir, what should we do?” she asked, clearly sensing the urgency of the situation.

I knew I had no choice. My responsibility was not only to my wife but also to the safety of our unborn child. “Call the police,” I instructed, referring to my best friend. “Tell them to meet me at the red bridge.”

My heart raced with panic as I tried calling Mia repeatedly, the repeated voicemail messages only fueling my anxiety. She wasn’t picking up, and with each unanswered call, my fear for her safety intensified.

In a desperate move, I dialed Bella, hoping for any information about Mia. When she answered, I blurted out my concerns, barely able to conceal the worry in my voice. “Bella, where’s Mia? I’ve been trying to reach her, and she’s not answering.”

Bella’s voice carried a hint of surprise as she replied, “Mia’s at work. She left this morning for her job.”

Relief washed over me. Knowing that Mia was at work brought a measure of comfort, but it didn’t entirely ease the unease I felt about the ominous call I had received earlier. Still, it was a reassuring confirmation that Mia was safe at the moment.

I ended the call with Bella, thanking her for the information, and then rushed out of the building. My heart was still racing, and the fear that had gripped me remained a heavy weight. I needed to get to the red bridge, to confront the threat and ensure Mia’s safety.

My car was parked in the nearby parking lot, and I ran towards it, my mind fixated on the urgent need to reach the bridge. Every second that passed was a second Mia’s safety was in question.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, my thoughts were consumed by Mia and the impending confrontation. The drive to the red bridge was fraught with tension, the road stretching ahead seeming endless.Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

The minutes ticked away, and as I approached the intersection that led to the bridge, I felt my foot move to the brake pedal. My heart pounded, and the weight of the impending encounter was palpable. My grip tightened on the steering wheel as I tried to slow down, but something was wrong.

Panic coursed through me as I realized that the brakes were unresponsive. I pumped the brake pedal, but it was as if the car had lost its ability to stop. I could see a massive truck ahead, its towering presence blocking the road. The proximity to impact was immediate, and there was no way to avoid the collision.

In that terrifying moment, everything went dark. The world around me vanished, and the screeching sound of metal against metal filled the air. The impact was brutal, and the car shuddered with the force of the collision. My body jerked forward, restrained by the seat belt, as the world around me was sent into chaos.