Zayn didn’t return for the night. Fair to say, I stayed awake until three in the morning, thinking maybe he’d come creeping in, I could catch him in the act, and proceed to chastise him for his idiocy. But when I heard the grandfather clock from downstairs chime at three in the morning, my tired state of being took the better of me.
I awoke just four hours later at the sound of heavy knocking at my bedroom door. I groggily climbed out of bed, silently cursing to myself when I stubbed my toe on the bedpost. I grabbed my silk robe from a hanger in my closet. Dragging myself to the bedroom door, I pondered, in my half-awake state, who it possibly could be. I was surprised to see a mob of maids and butlers standing outside the door.
Lisa pushed past the other workers, an expression of pure worry draped over her young face. “Miss, Master Zayn did not return last night.”
I blinked a few times. This was why I was awoken at seven in the morning? For Lisa to state the blatantly obvious? “No, he didn’t.”
“Do you know where he is, Miss?” A butler chimed in from behind Lisa.
“I have no idea,” I let out a yawn. “Perhaps he’s spending the night at work?”
Lisa shook her head frantically. “We’d receive word of that. Miss, Master is missing.”
I stared back at her, unable to believe how ludicrous this all sounded so early in the morning. I tugged at the tie on my bright red robe and sighed. “He can take care of himself, can’t he? He’s a big boy.”
Lisa frowned. “Miss, I don’t mean to sound out of place, but you should take more concern over the whereabouts of your husband.”
Of course, she was right. But she was an outsider; she didn’t know the inner dynamics of my relationship with Zayn. As much as I was fond of her, she was a complete outsider. “I have no means of contacting him.”
My response confused a few of the maids; they were obvious baffled by the projection that I didn’t have my husband’s cell phone number. He didn’t have mine either, so I didn’t care much.
“Miss, we’ve tried to contact him at his work and his private numbers, but he hasn’t responded.” A butler commented.
“I’m sure he’s not dead.” I replied with a sleepy shrug, beginning to close the door.
Someone stuck their foot in the path of the door, hindering it from closing. I looked up and saw Liam staring at me with hard eyes. What was he doing here?
“Can I speak with you privately, Miss?” He asked with the same cold expression on his face. It frightened me and I obliged obediently. The other maids and butlers filed out and I let him into the bedroom. He locked the door behind him.
“You really have no idea where Zayn is?” He asked, taking a seat on one of our leather ottomans.
I sat on another across from him, cautiously watching his eyes. It surprised me how casually he was addressing Zayn. “I honestly have no clue. He disappeared in the early morning yesterday and hasn’t arrived since. I can’t contact him and he has no means of contacting me.”
“Shit,” Liam muttered under his breath. He looked a mess; his perfect golden brown hair was unkempt and his eyes looked tired, as if he had stayed up all night.
