C1 Find her out
The man stood in Nation A, facing the tall French windows. His gaze was locked on something far beyond the glass. His cold, unreadable eyes made it impossible to guess what he was thinking.
Max, his assistant, stood behind him with a stack of papers in his hands. He had been with this man for years—the world’s most handsome, ruthless, and untouchable businessman. A man often called heartless, even soulless. A man who had broken a billion hearts. Yes, he was the callous CEO, brutal in his decisions and absolute in his control. The richest man in his country—and the most powerful man in all of Asia.
Then came the man’s voice. Deep. Magnetic.
“Did you find her this time?”
It had been years. And yes—he was still looking. She had vanished without a trace.
Max had seen him lose control countless times over this very question. Still, he managed to answer.
“Our team is still searching in Nation M.”
A chill ran through Max's spine as he said it. Just as he feared, glass shattered with a loud bang. The CEO hadn't even flinched. The man’s killing intent filled the room.
Without turning around, he spoke again—his voice calm, cold, and final.
“Don’t come back to me until you’ve found her.”
Then, a pause.
“I will stop at nothing to get her. Dead or alive.”
His eyes closed for a moment. When they opened, they held no mercy.
“If she’s dead, bring me her body. I want her—dead or alive.”
Max bolted out of the room like a dog chased by its master’s wrath.
---
He had been searching for her for years. Across continents. Cities. Airports. But she had vanished like smoke.
Despite hiring elite investigators and using every connection he had, not a single clue had been enough. No hair, no trace. Nothing.
Max had remained his most trusted man through it all. He had witnessed his boss through every storm. Given how dangerously attractive the man was, it always puzzled Max—what kind of woman could have left him in such a state? And why had she left at all?
Even after all these years, Max could never understand his boss’s heart. But he had learned one thing—this was the only topic that could shatter the man’s legendary composure.
He had never seen the woman himself. Still, curiosity gnawed at him. Who was she—the woman who made the coldest man alive lose his mind?
---
“What?”
“You’re sure?”
Max’s voice dropped as he gripped the phone tighter. “If this is wrong again, no one will be able to save us.”
A confident voice answered from the other end.
“This time, I’m sure.”
Max exhaled slowly. Then turned back.
---
He returned to the office, his footsteps hesitant.
Crack.
Something broke beneath his shoe. Max froze.
The room was destroyed.
Papers littered the ground. Chairs smashed. A table flipped on its side. This once tastefully decorated office now looked like a warzone.
The man stood at the window once again, cigarette smoke curling around him. A half-burnt cigarette lay at his feet. His face was hidden in shadow.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
Max swallowed. “We’ve found her. Boss.”
The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Where?”
“In Nation M,” Max said, after a beat of hesitation.
The name seemed to hang in the air.
Nation M—his homeland. The place he hadn’t set foot in for years. The place of his worst memories—and his deepest attachments.
“You really believe they’ve found her this time?” he asked, crushing his last cigarette.
“Yes, boss. They’re certain.”
Max handed over a folder.
Inside were a few old documents. One contained a blurry photo. The woman’s face was partially hidden, but her figure—her posture—was unmistakably elegant. She wore designer clothing. She looked like she was living an extravagant life.
There was a man in the photo beside her. And a child.
“With whom is she?” the man asked, his voice a notch lower. Darker.
Max hesitated before answering.
“Her husband… and daughter.”
Something shifted in the man’s eyes. The air in the room grew heavier. His grip on the folder tightened, the paper crumpling in his hand.
“Prepare for Nation M,” he said, voice sharp as ice.
“Yes, sir.”
---
Outside, night had fallen—but it wasn’t as dark as the man’s face.
His phone rang.
“Is it true, son? Are you coming home?” a cheerful woman asked from the other end.
His lips curled into the faintest smile. Only one person could speak to him like this.
“Mom… how did you know?”
A soft laugh. “A mother always knows. I’m so happy today. Everyone’s waiting for you—your grandmother, your uncles, aunts, cousins. You were missed terribly.”
Especially his grandmother. She was growing old and weak now. She had practically raised him herself. The only grandson. The heir. The pride of the family.
“I’ll be there by tomorrow evening,” he said gently.
“I love you, my son. My baby. Take care, okay? I have to go now—urgent work,” she said, hanging up.
Only she could call him “baby.” Everyone else feared him too much to even try.
---
He returned to his chair and pulled out the photo again. His deep-set eyes stared at the image, expression unreadable. His face was stone.
No one could guess what he was thinking.
The photo crumpled further under his grip.
And then—he hurled the file across the room, storming out of the office with fury in his wake.
