Chapter 961

Captain Payne strode into the room, his boots echoing on the hardwood floor. “Does Lysander know about this?” he asked, his voice a blend of concern and command.

Richard turned around, his face pale, and shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Call him. No use hiding it. The sooner he knows, the better he can handle it,” Payne advised with a firm nod.

Richard fumbled for his cell phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed Lysander’s number.

As the phone rang, Richard’s heart pounded against his chest like a jazz drum solo gone wild with panic.

“What’s up?” The call connected, and Lysander’s voice, authoritative and chilling, filled the air.

A surge of nerves tightened Richard’s throat, and before he uttered a word, he braced himself for Lysander’s anticipated rebuke. “Lysander, Thalassa’s been kidnapped,” Richard blurted out, his voice barely above a whisper.

The silence on the other end was heavy, a cold front moving in through the earpiece.

Richard’s already frantic heart clenched tighter as he rushed to explain. “Payne and I are on the hunt.

We found the initial crime scene, but she wasn’t there. The kidnappers have moved her, and we’re out of leads. We have no idea where to start looking.” “This kidnapping… does it involve you?” Lysander’s tone was icy, slicing through Richard’s defenses.

Richard recounted the events leading up to Thalassa’s interview and subsequent abduction.

He could almost feel Lysander’s aura sharpening over the line, a bitter frost ready to pierce through his chest.

“If anything happens to Thalassa, Richard, you’d better pray you have nine lives because one won’t be enough!” Lysander’s fury was palpable, his words biting, transmitting a cold threat through the phone.

Richard shuddered, quickly assuring him, “Payne and I will double our efforts to find Thalassa.”

“Keep me updated with any leads. I’m heading back now,” Lysander commanded before ending the call.

Without hesitation, Lysander dialed his assistant, David. “Get the jet ready. I need to get back. Now.”

David, recognizing the gravity in Lysander’s voice, confirmed the order with a decisive, “On it.”

Once off the call, David immediately contacted the private aviation service, arranging for a helicopter to whisk Lysander back to Starhaven within ten minutes.

The aviation service responded with prompt assurance, not daring to delay.

Ten minutes later, the helicopter landed on the hotel’s helipad. Before boarding, Lysander rang Fitch at the Royal Estates. “Lysander, the kids have been asking for their mother…” Fitch began, updating him on how the little ones longed for Thalassa’s return after school.

“Put Atticus on the line,” Lysander interrupted, his voice deep and steady.

“Of course, right away,” Fitch replied respectfully, setting the phone down to fetch Atticus from the toy room.

Atticus, hearing that Lysander wanted to speak to him, trotted over with the seriousness of a miniature CEO. “What’s up?” he said, picking up the phone.

“Grab your tablet, use your mom’s cell number, and track her phone. Can you do that?” Lysander instructed with calm authority. Atticus, a computer whiz kid and a notorious, little hacker who had once outsmarted a legion of tech gurus at his dad’s company, knew tracking a phone was child’s play.

“I can, but what’s going on? Is Mommy okay?” Atticus could easily triangulate the phone’s location, but the real question was why. His concern for his mother was palpable; she was his world, and any harm coming her way would break his little heart.