Chapter 62 Copycat
The voice on the other end of the line made Byron’s face darken even further.
“Keep searching. Check every surveillance camera available!” Byron’s command came out in a low, clipped tone, carrying the weight of his fury.
Athena wasn’t in Salin City. No one knew where she had gone. He refused to believe she would just disappear without leaving a trace. It was unthinkable. She had always been meticulous, always there—he couldn’t imagine her simply vanishing.
“Yes, sir,” came the voice on the other end, steady but tinged with caution. Byron’s anger was palpable, and it was chilling to those around him. The man had never witnessed Byron so enraged before. It was enough to make anyone quiver.
“Book me a flight to Greeli City after the press conference,” Byron ordered, his voice still grim.
“Understood!”
The line went dead, and Byron hung up the phone, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. His next move was clear: find Athena, no matter what it took.
He dialed Heather back, forcing his voice to sound calm. “Byron, are you done with your work?” Heather’s voice was gentle, almost soothing, unaware of the storm raging inside him.
“Yeah, I’ll be back right now,” he replied, his tone flat.
As Byron hung up, the elevator doors opened with a soft ding. A woman stepped out, holding a large bouquet of flowers, her eyes lifting to meet his. She froze for a moment, clearly startled by his presence.
Byron’s brow furrowed, his already taut expression hardening even more.
The woman hesitated before speaking. “I’m here to deliver flowers to the owner of this apartment,” she said, her voice uncertain, but polite.
Byron stepped aside, his gaze sharp. “Who are you looking for?” His tone was colder than usual, the chill in his voice making the air feel even heavier.
The woman seemed to shrink in on herself at the sight of Byron. “You must be Miss Newton’s husband, right?” she ventured.
Byron’s silence spoke volumes as he looked at the flowers she was holding. They were the same variety Athena had always kept in her apartment—the ones she’d carefully chosen for their fragrance, the ones that had made her space feel like home.
“She’s not here,” Byron said, his voice rougher than he intended. “You can give them to me.” He reached out to take the bouquet from her.
The woman hesitated, but after a moment’s pause, she handed them over, still uncertain.
“Miss Newton has been one of our regulars for years,” the delivery woman continued, her words spilling out without thinking. “She said that you’re always so busy with work… but if you see these flowers every time you come home, it might make you feel a little happier.”
The woman smiled softly, oblivious to the turmoil she was stirring within Byron. “Your wife really loves you,” she added.
Byron’s heart seemed to lurch painfully. The woman’s words struck him like a blade, dull yet unyielding. Athena had always been there, taking care of everything for him—his home, his life, his needs. And yet, now… now she was gone. She didn’t want him anymore.
He took the bouquet in his hands, clutching it with a tightness that betrayed the ache in his chest.
Byron arrived at the Crawford Manor, the weight of the flowers in his arms like a cruel reminder of what he had lost. As he stepped out of the car, Heather was already waiting for him, her figure elegant in a white dress, her smile warm and welcoming.
“What a beautiful bouquet!” Heather remarked, her eyes glinting as she extended her hands to take the flowers. She believed, of course, that Byron had brought them for her.
“Yes, it is very beautiful,” Byron muttered, ignoring Heather entirely.
He walked past her, his steps heavy, and entered the house with the flowers in his arms. He handed them to a servant, his voice distant. “Put these in a vase, and place them in my room.”
Heather’s smile faltered as she watched Byron’s retreating figure. She stood there for a moment, confused, before her eyes shifted back to the flowers. She recognized them instantly—the same ones she had always bought, the ones she’d carefully chosen for herself.
Her fingers stiffened as she stared at the bouquet, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in an uncomfortable silence.
“Such an idiot,” Athena’s voice echoed in Heather’s mind. “You even became a copycat when you bought flowers for your sweetheart.”
A bitter laugh tugged at Heather’s lips. The flowers, a gesture she’d thought would win Byron’s favor, only served to highlight just how much he was still attached to someone else.
Byron had never truly been hers. And it stung more than she was willing to admit.