All Chapters of A Second Chance With Mr Steele: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Ryan's POVThe clinking of a spatula against the frying pan echoed through the kitchen, the smell of sizzling bacon mixing with freshly brewed coffee. I should have been calm, enjoying this morning as usual, the simple routine of making breakfast for Emma and Lily while Lily played with her Legos on the counter. But I wasn’t. I was beyond pissed.Emma still hadn't woken up.I stole a glance at the clock. 7:15 AM. She had stumbled in late last night, too late, and I had pretended to be asleep, too angry to face her. The image of her sitting across from Adrian in that upscale restaurant was burned into my mind. I had called her when I saw the photo, my heart pounding in my chest, demanding to know where she was. She had kept her voice calm, almost indifferent, only saying she would be home soon. And then she had walked in hours later, acting as if nothing had happened.Lily kicked her tiny legs against the kitchen island, giggling as she stacked colorful Legos together. I pushed my frus

Adrian’s Point of view The drive home was silent, the kind that made the mind wander into dangerous territories. The streets were mostly empty, except for a few stragglers and late-night workers trying to make it home. I could have stopped at a bar, let the burn of whiskey chase away the thoughts swirling in my head, but I had an early meeting in the morning. The responsible thing to do was go home, shower, and get some rest.But responsibility had never felt this suffocating.Pulling into my driveway, I sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over my jaw before stepping out of the car. The mansion stood tall and lifeless in front of me. Cold. Empty. Like a place I merely existed in rather than lived. It hadn’t always been like this.It was one a bubbly place when I was married to Emma, we share so many happy memories in this place, that was until I cheated on her by mistake with Celia and she retaliated, I should have seen it as a retaliation, I shouldn't have judged her so quick for a crim

Emma’s Point of ViewPanic is a strange thing. It doesn’t creep in gently, it crashes over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath, twisting your insides, and making every logical thought crumble into dust. That was exactly how I felt the second I heard the words “Lily is missing.”The walls of my office blurred. My legs felt frozen, my heart hammering so violently I thought it might burst out of my chest. My daughter...my baby...gone?."What do you mean she's missing?" My voice wasn’t my own. It was raw, strangled, desperate.Nanny Isidro’s voice quivered through the phone. "I... I don't know, ma’am! I waited outside the school like always, but she never came out! I asked the teacher, and they said she was never in class!"I didn't hear the rest. My body was already moving before my brain caught up, my hands fumbling as I grabbed my purse and keys. Naomi, who had been watching with growing concern, snapped out of her daze and ran after me."Ms Carter, wait!... you're in no state

Emma's Point of ViewI didn’t sleep a wink last night.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Lily’s face... her bright smile, her giggles, the way she always hugged me before bed. And then, just as quickly, she was gone. Ripped away. Taken. The image of her in some dark, unknown place, alone and scared, haunted me. I sat on the living room couch all night, staring at my phone, hoping for a call that never came.Now, as I dragged myself into the kitchen, my body felt like lead. My hair was a tangled mess, my clothes wrinkled from tossing and turning. Ryan stood by the counter, flipping pancakes, his eyes narrowing the moment he saw me.“You look like hell,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You didn’t sleep, did you?”I let out a dry laugh, leaning against the counter. “Was That a joke? How the hell am I supposed to sleep when my daughter is missing, Ryan?” My voice cracked at the last word, but I refused to cry again. I’d done enough of that last night.He sighed, walking over to where I s

Emma’s POVThe world was closing in on me.Seventy-two hours!Seventy-two fucking hours! That was how long my daughter had been missing. Three whole days, and still, no answers. No trace of her whereabouts, no ransom call, no solid lead. Just endless chases down dead-end roads, leaving me more exhausted, more desperate, more broken with each passing hour.I had spent yet another sleepless night at the police station, waiting and hoping for something, anything, that could bring my little girl home. But all I got at the end was disappointment wrapped in empty promises.By the time I walked into my apartment, my limbs felt like dead weight. My head pounded with exhaustion, my throat burned from dehydration, and my nerves were stretched so thin that even the sound of my own footsteps against the wooden floor made me flinch.I went straight to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with chilled water, my hands shaking as I brought it to my lips. The coldness did little to soothe the