My Guardian's Cruelest Love Game

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ow to his chest. He hung up, his hand trembling slightly. Unavailable? He checked the number again, meticulously, his legal mi

every digital avenue he could think of. Within seconds, his phone buzzed with a notification: "U

He sprang from his chair, his mind a whirlwind of disbelief and a surging, irrational anger. She couldn't

ight for the door. Chrissy, who had been lounging on the cream sofa, looked up, st

e a strangled confession. "She's

ing gently on his arm. "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry. I knew she was a little sensitive. She's probably just upset about the wedding plans, you know? She always ha

She was right. Amirah was probably just throwing another tantrum, albeit a more ex

, an urgent tone in his voice. "Mr. Page, the Jenkins m

e emotions and unpredictable behavior, was a chaotic storm he couldn't tame. "I'm on my way," he snapped into the phone. He had to p

a desperate, almost manic energy. He worked around the clock, his focus absolute, using the relentless demands of h

ing. For a call, a text, an email. Anything. But nothing came. The silence from Amirah was absolute, unwav

pleas. Each one had been a desperate attempt to make him react, to make him see her. But this silence. This was differ

d around him had finally found the strength to dismantle it, to leave him behind. He had pushed her away, believing it was for her own good, believing she would even

with its intensity. He had thought he was protecting her, guiding her. But he had

he told himself. She was growing up, just like he wanted. But the emptine

bakery, ordering a small, elegant cake-her favorite, chocolate ganache. He even indulged in a moment of sentimentality, picturing her face li

, chuckled softly over the phone. "Oh, Mr. Page, a birthday cake for Amirah? She's s

with someone else? Someone who would look at her the way she used to look at him? The thought twisted his gut, a possessive,

e, meaningless. He slammed his phone down, the anxiety a cold knot in his stomach. He was losing control. The thought

s simply fulfilling a duty, ensuring her well-being. But his heart pounded with a frantic, desperate hope. He pictured her face when she saw him,

tremor ran through him. No lights. No sign of life. He got out of the car, the cake box

ked under the doormat, half-hidden, was a small, neat package. It was the bracelet he'd or

happening. She was supposed to be here. She was supposed to be waiting. He felt a desperate urge to try the door

ghboring apartment, a small dog on a leash. She

"Yes. Amirah Holland. She lives he

he hasn't lived here for weeks, honey. That apartment' s be

w space. Left. For good. The words echoed in hi