Too Late 12

Chapter 12 

River didn’t want to admit it, but he was miserable. The kind of quiet, suffocating misery that sat in his chest and refused to leave. 

Every night, he stared at his phone like it held the answers. He sent messages he knew wouldn’t be read. Called numbers that went straight to silence. Still, he did it-again and again-because 

he couldn’t stop. 

“Where are you?” 

“Just talk to me.” 

“Please, come home.” 

But Allison never answered. 

It was like she had vanished completely. No paper trail. No credit card usage. No sightings. His men searched every lead he gave them-trains, embassies, art communities, universities-but came back empty-handed. 

‘As if she never existed,” one of them had said. 

And River knew why. Because Allison didn’t want to be found. Because she hated him. 

He clenched his jaw, forcing the thought away. 

nstead, he focused on Candice. 

Candice-the woman he had once waited seven years for. The woman he had once believed was his future. She was radiant, bold, everything people expected to be beside a man like him. Anc how she was his. Fully. 

He reminded himself of that every time he looked at her. 

Candice is the best one for me. So he did what was expected. He took her on vacations. Flew her o Milan for shopping. Bought her the heels she once cried over when they sold out. Diamonds. Dinners. Dresses from Paris. 

She laughed freely, curled against him in private jets and luxury spas. She posted them on social media with captions like “Finally got my forever.” And the world believed them. Why wouldn’ hey? 

From the outside, it looked perfect. To Candice, it was perfect. She had finally won. River had chosen her. 

And River? He smiled. Kissed her when cameras were around. Held her hand like it didn’t burn. 

They spent the night at his villa one weekend. Candice cooked-badly-and he pretended it was edible. She teased him for being a workaholic, and he let her. They shared wine, then fell into bed, a tangle of passion and pleasure she thought belonged only to them. 

But halfway through- 

“Allison…” 

The name escaped his lips before he realized it. 

Candice froze. 

The air shifted, the mood evaporated. 

“What the hell did you just say?” she asked, her voice like glass about to shatter. 

River blinked, suddenly wide awake. “What? Nothing. I didn’t say-” 

“You said Allison!” she snapped, pushing him off her. “Are you serious?!” 

“I didn’t mean-Candice, listen-” 

She slapped him. Hard. 

“How dare you!” she shouted. “Don’t lie to me! Is that it? You want her back now? After everything?! After you said you loved me?” 

‘I do love you,” he insisted, but his voice cracked. 

Candice’s eyes narrowed. “No. You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to use me while dreaming about her. Choose, River. Me or Allison.” 

His breath caught. 

Candice waited, furious and wild-eyed. 

Finally, he said, “Of course it’s you. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do everything you want me 

o do.” 

ler expression softened, but only slightly: “Fine. You want to prove it? Buy me the Cartier set. The one I showed you last week. And the red Valentino coat. And I want a weekend in the Maldives.” 

le nodded. “Done.” 

And he did it. 

Over the next few days, River drowned himself in gifts and gestures. He bought everything Candice asked for, even things she didn’t. Private chefs, spa days, concert tickets. Anything to nake her smile. Anything to erase the guilt. 

¡ut no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fill the gap. Because Allison’s absence was a hole in is chest that nothing-not luxury, not Candice, not denial-could cover. 

le thought of her in quiet moments. Wondered if she had cut her hair. If she was still sketching ate at night. If she had found someone new. If she laughed with him the way she used to laugh vith River-soft, shy, unguarded. 

One night, he stood in the guest room-the one she used as a studio. The easel was still there. Covered in dust, untouched since the day she left. He touched the corner of the canvas with 

haking fingers. 

He had ruined everything. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore. 

He had fallen for Allison. 

Truly. Deeply. Painfully. 

And he had let her slip through his fingers. 

The next morning, he lost his temper. 

‘I pay you to find people,” he snapped at his security team. “And yet, no one knows where my 

wife is?” 

The men exchanged looks. Hesitant. Nervous. 

“We’ve tried everything, sir,” one of them said carefully. “There’s no record. No sightings. She’ gone.” 

“Then look harder!” he barked. “Turn over every city if you have to!” 

What he didn’t know… was that Candice had made sure they wouldn’t. 

Weeks ago, when River first gave the order to track Allison, Candice intercepted it. She paid his men generously. Threatened them where money didn’t work. 

“No one tells him anything,” she said. “If you find her, you forget it. She’s not to be found.” 

She couldn’t risk losing him. Not again. 

And so River kept searching. 

Desperate. 

Obsessed. 

Grieving a love he had only started to understand-too late.