Loving DAD 1096

Miles lay there half–naked, shorts clinging to his hips. The room wasn’t the chaotic mess one might expect–only a desk lamp lay shattered on the floor. Nearby, a small camcorder still sat on a tripod. 

Sharon was not in the room. 

Rick exhaled, but it was no real relief. He wasn’t as oblivious as Silas; the scene made him suspect exactly what Thomas had warned: this was no accident. 

Carter’s eyes swept the floor and snagged on the camera. He crossed the room in a few quick strides and pressed play. 

Once the secretary had set the device and left, Miles’s mask came off. Seeing the footage, everyone’s understanding crystallized in an ugly instant. 

Rick’s face drained of color. Miles had been brazen enough to lay such a trap–how dare he plot like this against them. No matter how much the Kalen family might disdain Sharon, they would never sink to such disgraceful depths. 

And the stakes were clear: if anyone had walked in on Miles and Sharon, and she refused to marry him, her reputation would be ruined beyond repair. 

Rick could not imagine how to salvage the situation. If Miles succeeded, it would splinter any chance of reconciliation between the Kalen family and Sharon. And given Sharon’s nature, there was no way she would meekly submit to such a rotten deal. 

Suddenly Rick understood he’d been used as a pawn. 

There was no time for theorizing–Carter and Thomas had no patience for scheming. The immediate priority was finding Sharon. 

Carter scanned the room. Sharon’s phone was gone. If she’d been drugged, the situation looked grim. Yet the video showed her leaving of her own accord. 

Carter cut through the conversation. “Get the corridor surveillance pulled–search every corridor now.” 

Rick had thought Thomas was overreacting. The evidence proved Thomas right. Rick couldn’t afford distractions–Johanna’s scandalous photos were exploding across the hall, and if Sharon were harmed, Rick would have no way to explain it to his father. 

Rick ground his teeth, glare locked on the unconscious Miles; he wanted, fiercely, to shoot the bastard where he lay. How dare he scheme to frame him. 

Thomas, thinking fast, said, “Call Julliard. I suspect he’s with Sharon.” 

Carter’s eyes darkened. “Are you sure?” 

“Not certain–eighty percent. But if he doesn’t pick up, it’s a sure thing.” 

Carter swallowed the question of why and dialed anyway. His fingers trembled despite his composed face; the line went through, but nobody answered. His stomach dropped. 

Just as he prepared to redial, his phone buzzed with other news: the monitoring team had located Sharon. 

“Mr. Biggs, the camera feed shows Miss McKinzie nearby, in Room 032.” The voice hesitated, then added, “She’s with Mc. 

Macaron.” 

Carter’s knuckles whitened as he squeezed the handset. He ended the call and breathed the location out between tight lips. Room 032.” 

There was no time to linger over Miles. They moved as one toward the door of 032. 

Thomas didn’t bother with knocking. “Don’t waste time. Break the lock,” he said. 

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