The Hunt Begins

**Richard's POV**

The silence in the mansion was almost unbearable, heavy with tension and suppressed fury. Every second that passed without news of Charlotte and the children only fueled my anger. It was the calm before the storm. I was on the verge of exploding, but I had to maintain control to ensure every move was precise.

The next morning started early for me. The sun had barely risen when I descended the stairs and began making calls. Vanessa was already awake, as usual, ready to help or at least appear useful. She knew she was treading on unstable ground, so she stayed on the sidelines, waiting for the right moment to step in.

"Richard, the private investigator is already in the field," she said, handing me a strong cup of coffee. "They've started sweeping all possible escape routes. Charlotte won't be able to hide for long."

I took the cup and looked at her, my gaze cold. "You better be right, Vanessa. Because if they fail, I'll find other ways to solve this. And it won't be pretty."

She nodded, a shadow of apprehension crossing her face before it was quickly replaced by her usual confident mask. "I know how important this is to you, Richard. And I'll do everything in my power to help."

I didn't respond, just turned and began reviewing the information I already had. The house, once a refuge of luxury and power, now felt like a prison. The walls seemed to close in around me, suffocating me with the constant reminder that Charlotte had escaped. And worse, she had taken my children, my guarantee of a future.

My mother entered the room, hesitant. Her eyes were tired, as if she had aged years in a single night. She approached slowly, as if unsure whether she should speak to me. "Richard... have you heard anything?"

I clenched my fists, struggling to maintain composure. "Not yet. But it's only a matter of time. She can't have gone far."

My mother sighed, the weight of her worries clearly visible. "Richard, I know you're furious, but please try to remember that Charlotte is scared. And the babies... they're so small. They need their mother."

"They need me," I corrected her with a tone that left no room for discussion. "And that's exactly what I'm going to ensure."

She shook her head, sad. "I just... I just want you to think about how you'll handle this when you find them. Don't hurt them more than they've already been hurt."

"I'll do whatever is necessary, Mother," I replied coldly. "And I'll make sure Charlotte understands that this was the worst decision she could have made."

My mother was about to respond, but she was interrupted by the shrill ring of my phone. I answered on the second ring, eager for any news. "Speak."

"Mr. Anderson," the voice on the other end belonged to one of my investigators. "We're still trying to track any sign of Charlotte, but so far, we have nothing concrete."

My anger turned into something more focused—pure frustration. "What do you mean, nothing? She can't just have disappeared!"

"We're doing our best, sir," the investigator replied, his voice cautious. "But it seems she planned this very well. No recent records, no sign of where she might have gone. She must have changed her appearance and adopted a false identity. This complicates things."

My body tensed, a mix of frustration and disbelief. "And you haven't found anything? No leads?"

"Unfortunately, no, sir. We'll keep looking, but... it may take time."

I hung up the phone, my mind racing in circles. Charlotte had been smarter than I imagined. She had planned everything with precision, down to the smallest detail. The thought that she might have escaped for good, leaving no trace, enraged me.

Vanessa approached again, watching me carefully. "Any news?"

"Nothing," I replied, my tone impassive. "She's managed to disappear."

Vanessa nodded, leaning against the table beside me. "That just means we need to be smarter, Richard. She can't stay hidden forever. Eventually, she'll make a mistake, and that's when we'll catch her."

I nodded, but inside, I was battling growing frustration. Charlotte had escaped, and I was losing control. But this wasn't the end. If I'd learned anything about myself through this process, it was that no matter the time or effort, I would find her. And when I did, there would be no more running. Not for her. Not for anyone.

I spent the rest of the day overseeing the operation, ensuring that every possible escape route was monitored. My connections, those I rarely used, were called in to assist. The situation had changed, and I was no longer dealing with a simple rebellious wife. Charlotte had become a problem that needed to be resolved.

By late afternoon, another call brought more of the same—nothing. No leads, no sign of where she might be. The frustration burned inside me, a cold rage that wouldn't be satisfied until I found her. But for now, all I could do was wait, plan, and make sure that when the time came, I was ready to act.

With a sigh of contained frustration, I returned to the mansion. Charlotte might have gained a temporary reprieve, but the hunt was only just beginning. I would not give up. She belonged to me, and I wouldn't rest until she was back, under my control, where she always should have been.