The Sunset Marque rose like a glass cathedral in the morning heat — polished, towering, pretending innocence.
Lex didn't slow as he crossed the lobby.
He didn't look at the chandelier, the velvet seating, the concierge who perked up in recognition.
He only saw the hallway where Rose had last been seen.
Kade walked ahead of him, a silent, muscular wall moving with military precision. Benny trailed behind, wringing his hands, eyes darting everywhere like he expected Rose to appear between lobby pillars.
The elevator chimed.
They stepped inside.
The doors shut.
Kade pressed the button for the service floor.
Lex raised an eyebrow.
"Front-of-house is useless," Kade said. "People vanish in back hallways, not marble lobbies."
Lex didn't argue.
The elevator opened into a world of linoleum floors, humming vents, and storage carts lined with neatly folded towels. The smell of disinfectant clung to the walls.
This was where the mask dropped.
Kade motioned to the right. "This way."
"How do you know?" Benny whispered.
Kade pointed at the scuff marks along the ground. "Someone moved heavy equipment recently. Or dragged something."
Benny swallowed.
Lex moved faster.
Then—
Kade stopped abruptly.
He crouched.
"Here," he said, voice low.
Lex dropped beside him.
There, half-hidden beneath a housekeeping cart —
was Rose's phone.
Face down.
Screen cracked.
Battery dead.
Lip gloss smudged across the case.
Benny gasped. "Oh my God—"
Lex picked it up gently, turning it over in his hand.
This wasn't dropped.
This wasn't forgotten.
It was abandoned.
Deliberately.
Kade stood, scanning the hallway, nostrils flaring like a predator catching scent.
"There's more," he muttered.
He walked slowly, carefully — each step silent despite his size — then stopped again near the staff-only staircase.
Something gleamed on the floor.
Lex's heartbeat stalled.
He reached down and lifted it.
A small jade bangle.
Not shattered.
Not ripped in half.
Just one piece, lying perfectly still on the floor — a faint hairline crack near the edge, subtle enough most people wouldn't notice. Subtle enough it could be mistaken for nothing at all.
But Lex noticed.
He froze.
The breath left his body in a clean, sharp exhale as he crouched and picked it up with both hands.
Rose's jade bangle — the one her mother gave her, the one she never removed, not even for photoshoots, not even when directors said it clashed with wardrobe.
She called it "my good-luck armor."
Seeing it here, alone, without her…
Lex's fingers tightened around it.
Benny saw his expression and went pale. "Oh God… Lex, that's—"
Lex didn't answer.
He turned the bangle over in his hand, running his thumb along the tiny fracture line.
Kade stepped closer, brow furrowing. "That's not a random drop."
He pointed to the faint scratch along the floor.
"She hit something. Hard. Or someone yanked her arm."
Lex felt something cold slide into his chest — not fear, not panic.
Focus.
Weaponized focus.
"She would never take this off," Lex said quietly.
Benny swallowed. "I know."
"Then she didn't," Lex murmured.
Kade studied Lex, voice lowering into something grim.
"This was a message. Whoever grabbed her didn't have time to hide it. They were in a hurry."
Lex slipped the bangle into his jacket pocket like a fragile piece of evidence from a crime scene.
Not broken.
Not lost.
Just left behind.
And that meant something.
It meant she struggled.
It meant she resisted.
It meant she was close enough for the world to leave traces.
Kade angled his head toward the stairwell door.
"Look at this."
A dent in the metal.
Small, but unmistakable — the kind made by a shoulder or a body slammed against it.
Lex's pulse sharpened.
"She fought them," he said.
"Yeah," Kade replied. "And she landed at least one hit."
Lex paused, hand resting over the pocket where the jade rested.
A message.
A clue.
A whisper from Rose in the dark.
"We follow the trail," Lex said.
And this time, the determination in his voice made both Kade and Benny straighten — like soldiers hearing a commander step into his rightful role.
Kade nodded once. "Lead the way."
Lex didn't move.
He stood there in the dim service hallway, fingers brushing the outline of the jade bangle in his jacket pocket. Something tightened in his chest — not panic, not fear. Something sharper. Something that hummed under his skin like a wire pulled too tight.
"No," Lex said quietly.
Kade raised a brow behind his sunglasses. "No?"
Lex turned toward him, voice low, steady, commanding.
"You lead.
I follow.
And Benny stays two steps behind you at all times."
Benny blinked. "Wait—why me—?"
Kade hid a smirk. "Smart."
Lex pointed at the dented metal door. "You read environments faster than anyone else here. And you know exactly what men like Harrow hire. You lead."
Kade shifted his stance, recalculating the dynamic.
He wasn't used to clients who could reverse a power structure mid-sentence.
But he respected it.
"Fair enough," Kade said. "Then here's my first order."
He tapped the stairwell door with two knuckles.
"We go slow. We assume cameras, eyes, and ears. And until we know who took Rose, we treat this place like hostile ground."
Lex nodded once.
Kade turned to Benny.
"You see anything — anything at all — you say it. Don't guess. Don't assume. Speak."
Benny nodded nervously. "Got it."
Kade pushed the stairwell door open, moving with smooth, silent precision.
Lex fell in behind him.
Benny followed, clutching the folders like a shield.
Halfway down the stairs, Kade raised one fist — the universal signal for stop.
Lex froze instantly.
Benny bumped into Lex's back. "Sorry— sorry—"
Kade pointed at the wall.
A faint smear of makeup.
Barely visible.
Pale rose-colored foundation.
Lex's stomach tightened.
"That's her shade," Benny whispered.
Kade glanced back at Lex, quietly impressed.
"She put up a fight."
Lex's voice came out razor-thin.
"She always does."
They descended the rest of the staircase, emerging behind the hotel into the service alley where delivery trucks idled and the air smelled like engine heat.
Kade crouched again.
"Fresh tire impressions," he muttered. "Heavy vehicle. Blacked-out windows, probably. Parked right against the door."
Lex crouched beside him, eyes narrowing.
"Getaway van?"
Kade nodded.
"Professional grab. Fast extraction. Quiet."
Benny rubbed his arms. "Lex… what if they already moved her far away? What if—"
Lex turned slowly.
"Benny."
"Yeah?"
"If they moved her far away, they made mistakes along the way."
Kade stood, brushing dust off his hands.
"And mistakes," he said, "leave trails."
Lex straightened, pulling the jade bangle from his pocket. He held it up to the sunlight — the faint hairline crack catching a glint of green.
A breath escaped him — slow, controlled, like an oath.
"She left this for us," Lex murmured.
Kade's eyes narrowed.
"You sure?"
Lex nodded.
"Rose doesn't drop things," he said. "Especially not this."
Kade stepped closer, studying him.
"Latham," he said, "I need one more thing before we continue."
Lex raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Kade's tone hardened.
"I need you to understand something. You're not chasing missing keys or a lost briefcase. You're chasing a person — and people leave complicated trails. They panic. They run. They lie. They break."
A pause.
"And sometimes, they're not alive when we get to the end."
Benny sucked in a breath.
Lex didn't blink.
"We're getting her alive," he said.
"You can't guarantee that," Kade countered.
Lex stepped forward until they were eye to eye.
"I don't guarantee it," he said quietly.
"I decide it."
Kade stared at him.
Then… he nodded.