*

Two hours. They've been here for two hours rummaging around her apartment looking for any clues and finding nothing.

They've asked countless questions, wanted my undivided attention, but I was getting fed up quickly.

"Let's go over this one more time, Mr. Blackstone. So, you were indeed having an affair with Ms. Carlyle while in a relationship with, uh," he flipped a few pages in his notepad, "Ms. Jasmine Greenwood?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out an exasperated sigh, "For the 14th time tonight, yes. Okay? I was fucking her on the side. It was an unhappy relationship and Genevieve...she," I sighed, "She turned on the fücking Sun for me."

I hadn't realized I'd been in the dark for so long before I met her. I was stuck in a fucking routine, a never-ending nightmare of work and Jasmine and work and Jasmine and work, etc. But, Genevieve...added light, added warmth, added much-needed life I hadn't known I was missing.

He smiled slightly but continued jotting things down on his notepad.

The young cop, probably fresh out of the fücking academy, was stuck questioning me on my whereabouts, the days leading up to today and then all of today.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I don't mean to offend you, please don't take it that way. I just need to get a list who could be a potential suspect and who couldn't. Did Ms. Greenwood ever find out about Ms. Carlyle?"

I snorted and pushed a hand through my hair, "Yeah, she found out."

He took a deep breath, "Okay...and what was her reaction?"

I looked up at his baby face, I bet he could barely even grow facial hair. Why had they stuck me with the rookie, of all cops here.

"She was having an affair, as well. She was pissed, but not pissed enough to leave on her own," I sighed.

"On her own? And do you know who she was having the affair with," he looked at me expectantly.

"Uh, she was crazy, faked pregnancy just to make me stay and then threatened to abuse herself and say I did it. So, Genevieve... spoke with her and asked her to leave quietly."

He hummed questioningly, "Uh huh... Are you sure all she did was speak with her?"

I thought back to Genevieve getting rid of the elevator footage. I knew I could get caught for 'obstruction of justice' but did it matter if she punched Jasmine in the face or not? Was that important to the case?

"Yeah," I sighed, "just spoke."

He nodded, not fully believing me I could see, "And the man Ms. Greenwood was having the affair with?"

Oh, what the fück was his name? At the moment I could give a shit less who she was sleeping with.

"David something? I don't know, you could ask my PI, though. Look, man, have they found anything worth a damn?"

I was ready to get my own team of forensic analysis' in here to dust the whole fucking apartment. Every piece of glass because maybe it made contact with one of them, the doorknobs because maybe they were fucking idiots, one could only hope, and didn't wear gloves, the floor for any dirt particles that could be traced to some specific type of soil that only they were around. Some real 'detective tv show' type shit was what I was wanting.

Hell, just anything to kick start this.

Everyone knows that the first 48 hours are the most important in an abduction case and we were about two hours and 15 minutes in and baby faced rookie cop over here is asking about David whatever-the-fück-his-name-is.

I felt empty. I felt stupid. I felt like a fool. I felt selfish. I felt horrible. I also felt like fucking someone up. I felt like wrapping my hands around someone's throat and not letting go. I felt like going through the list baby-faced-rookie-cop was making and ticking everyone off one by one myself.

What was I suppose to do without her? I would walk into work tomorrow and she wouldn't be waiting to ride the elevator with me. She wouldn't be there wearing one of those short skirts that showed off her legs like she knows I like. She wouldn't be there to roll her eyes at me and test my patience. She wouldn't be there to blush when I smirked at her after I insinuated something sexual.

She was gone, they had taken her. I let them take her. I got here too late.

I should've come up with her. , why didn't I come up with her?

I remembered the look in her eyes. She felt something was wrong and pleaded, but I still told her no. , and all because it was late?

I shuddered again.

"It's not your fault, Dominic," I heard someone say quietly.

I turned around and immediate was on my feet with my arms around the small figure.

"It's going to be okay, Dom. We'll find her," she said.

I rested my chin on the top of her head and hugged her shoulders. Her familiar scent bringing me the slightest bit of comfort.

"It's my fault, Katherine," I whispered, trying, but unsuccessfully, to stop the stinging in my eyes.

I wasn't a crier. Couldn't remember the last time I had. Maybe when I was a child? But seeing as Genevieve was taken right from my fucking hands... my fucking Sun, my Princess.

"It's not, Dominic," she tried to reassure me.

"It is though, Katherine. She wanted me to come up with her. God, she practically fücking begged me to come up with her and if I had..."

"They're saying it looks professionally done. Who knows, if you would've stayed the night, they could've come and," I felt her shudder, "It could've been a lot worse."

I backed away and stared in disbelief, "She was , Katherine! This is the worst it's ever going to be!"

She shook her head, "No, you could've come in to her laying on the floor with a bullet hole in her body, bleeding to death, but you didn't! You could've stayed the night and I would've woken to a report of you and her taken, maybe even you dead and her still taken. We will find her."

I turned around and stalked back over to the baby-faced-cop and spun him around, "Who's in charge?"

He pointed to an older man by the living room window.

I mumbled a 'thanks' and made my way over to the man.

"Are you in charge," I asked as he watched me walk up.

"I am. You must be Dominic Blackstone. It's unfortunate to meet you under such...devastating circumstances. I'm Lieutenant Barry Taylor."

I shook his hand, "Lieutenant Taylor, please tell me you've found something?"

He pressed his thin lips together and my heart sank for the third time tonight.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Blackstone. Whoever took Genevieve knew what they were doing. We're pulling footage from the cameras in the hallway and elevator, but it looks like they knew how to get in and out without being seen or traced. I'm willing to bet there's not a single fingerprint in this apartment that doesn't belong to you or her."

And Katherine, and Preston.

"So, what do we do now," I was getting tired of hearing that they basically had nothing. I needed her .

"You can't pull the footage from the camera at the back of the building? To see what car they stuffed her into?"

Did I need to hold his fucking hand and guide him through the steps of tracking someone down? How fucking incompetent must all of these people be?

"We're working on it, Mr. Blackstone. I assure you we are doing everything we can to bring Genevieve back home to you."

Home.

She was my home. I should've been here. Why wouldn't she just listen to me?

"She's so fucking..." I growled, "I told her to go back downstairs. She's so stubborn."

I should've been here. I should've come up with her!

He nodded his head, "There is a very big mentality of 'That'll never happen to me.' And it's dangerous to think that way, but a lot of women do. I'm so sorry."

I sighed and turned around and found the rookie cop again, "David Phillips," I stated and watched him nod and quickly pull out his notepad and pen.

I sat in the chair I had occupied previously for another hour before the lieutenant walked over to me and informed me that I should go home and get some rest and that he would call if they found anything.

I was grateful that Katherine had come by and stayed with me. I didn't even remember texting her, my mind must've been on autopilot.

I trudged down the hall and to the elevator and saw the walls lined with cops, just fucking chit-chatting like Genevieve hadn't been taken three fücking hours ago.

I was seething, what good were they if they weren't analyzing everything in her apartment for any sign of any-fucking-thing.

As we walked to the door of the building Katherine grabbed my keys from my hand, "I'm driving. You're in no condition to get behind the wheel."

I nodded my head and went around to the passenger side. I wanted time to think freely anyway.

Who would do this? Who would want to do this?

Preston?

Jasmine?

Jeremy? But that one's a stretch.

Who else? Who didn't like her? Not a lot of people. It was hard to be around her and not fall for her charm.

I rested my elbows on my knees and put my head in my hands and dug my nails into my scalp. I tried to think of where each individual person would take her, what they would do to her. I felt nauseous at the thought.

She must've been terrified.

I suddenly felt a smile form at the edges of my lips at the thought of her punching one of them in the face like she had done to Jasmine.

She was a little firecracker and wouldn't go gently. That much was true from the look of her apartment.

I felt the lump in my throat and tried my hardest to push it away.

"We're going to find her, Dom. I already called Elijah and Nathaniel and they'll be flying in tomorrow," she rubbed her hand over my back.

"You called them," I asked as I turned my head.

She nodded, "I figured the more there are of us, the better chance we have at finding her."

I stared into her eyes. Even though she worked for Preston, we were still close. She was my baby sister and I loved her, but we were too much alike to be in the same city together for more than a weekend and she knew that so her being here... I was grateful.

"Thank you, Katherine," I whispered.

"It's no problem, Dominic," she smiled as she headed to my house.