It's been a week.

She has been missing for a whole week and I am going crazy from not knowing where she is. People don't just disappear in public bathrooms.

Someone must have seen something.

Someone should say something so that I can find her and get out of this misery that I'm feeling.

Rosalie is everything to me. She makes my life worth living and this has been the most horrible week I've had to endure in a long time. Losing my parents in that plane crash was painful but at least I got to mourn, grieve and find closure over the years.

Her disappearance makes me have a sinking feeling in my stomach because I have no idea where she is or what she is going through.

If she is even alive.

As much as it hurts for me to even consider the fact that she might be dead, it is a possibility but I am praying to God that he brings her back to me. I need a sign or anything that can lead me to finding her.

I have turned my main office building into a total investigation hub. I have the police working on the case but I have also brought in some private investigators and a few of my IT crew. Every single person is working hard on looking for her.

I need my Rose back but most importantly, her family and friends need her back. I have never seen her mother like this. I never thought that I would see my future mother-in-law this distraught. She hasn't stopped crying ever since I made that call to let them know about the situation at hand.

I flew the whole family in and had them use their previous rooms in the house. It hurts seeing her like this. June has been a saving grace and helped with comforting Alina. I know that it must be hard for her as a parent. This is her child, a person that she shares a deep maternal connection with.

This is her only daughter. Her only child.

Darius has been the more level headed one out of all of us. Even more than Tommy who has taken it upon himself to be the one who keeps me sane. Roslie's father has hope for all of us. He is the one who believes more than any of us that she is alive and that we will get her back.

I need her to be here with me. I don't know who I am without her.

"You need to get some rest", Darius says. We're in my study. Just me and him. Tommy and Harvey are downstairs with the rest of the family.

Even Rose's friends, Bryce and Gigi have been coming over frequently to see how everyone is doing and if there are any news of Rose yet.

I lean back onto my chair and run my palms over my eyes. I haven't gotten any sleep in days and I can feel my body begging me to take a few hours to sleep. But the thing is that I can't.

I can't sleep because when I close my eyes I get these bad dreams. Sometimes I find myself looking over her coffin. Her body unresponsive and her light gone from the world.

I don't want that to be the case. I wish that is not something that happens.

I would die right along with her if that ever happened.

"This is not healthy Xander", Darius states, "She wouldn't want you to put your body through this".

I know she wouldn't. Rose would be scolding me and telling me to get some rest.

"I can't sleep", I responded to him.

He releases a heavy sigh, "Son, you gotta try or your body will shut down"

My heart clenches when he calls me son.

Before I answer him, a knock interrupts us, immediately followed by the door opening. Tommy walks inside with a sense of urgency.

"You need to come downstairs now", he says to the both of us.

Without wasting any time, I jump up from my chair and quickly walk out of the study, following him and Darius to where everyone is.

The moment we walk into the living room, I see an unfamiliar face. A girl with dirty blonde hair and dark brown eyes sits on one of the armchairs. Everyone's attention focused on her.

"What's going on?", I frantically ask as my gaze sweeps across the room.

June pats the open space next to her on the couch, "Come sit sweetie".

I stay rooted at the threshold for a few seconds before hesitantly doing as she says. The question that we all have been dying to ask comes from Darius just as I sit down.

"Who are you?".

She gives a slight smile before answering, "My name is Stacy and I think I know who took your daughter".

One.

Two.

Three, full seconds of silence. Everyone of us was stunned by what Stacy just said.

"What do you mean? How do you know who took her?" Alina asks. Her eyes puffy and bloodshot from the relentless crying.

"I'm Belle's sister".

As if we aren't shocked already from her initial statement, a collective audible gasp comes from the rest of us once the words leave her lips.

How?

Belle never mentioned anything about having a sibling. Come to think of it...she never spoke of her family at all. I was with that woman for three months and I didn't even know what her favourite color was.

"You obviously didn't know because she never told you I exist", she says pointedly to me. Even though it was not a question, I mindlessly nod in acknowledgement.

"How sure are you about this?", Darius asks of her initial claim.

We watch as she shifts on the chair and make herself more comfortable. "Well...a few weeks ago Belle was livid when she found out about your engagement", she shoots me a warm, friendly smile "Congratulations by the way".

I don't even get a chance to say 'thank you' because of how quickly she goes back to the explanation.

"So around about the time Rosalie disappeared, Belle started to become this happy person who could almost believe in rainbows and unicorns. Now to some people that is just her normal self....but I know Belle, I grew up with her. So I started snooping around and found nothing. Until a few days ago when she slipped up and unintentionally confirmed what I suspected"

"Which was what?", Isadora anxiously asks. She is on the edge of the seat. Her face clouded with worry.

"At first I thought my eyes were fooling me but then I had to look at the magazine cover to be sure and I saw that she was wearing Rosalie's engagement ring. And then last night I overheard a conversation on the phone that she was having with a someone named Paul''

"No!", Alina gasps and holds a hand over her mouth to cover the cries that are ready to flood out.

The amount of anger that courses through my veins is enough to make my body temperature rise. Rose had once told me about how Paul always made her uncomfortable and she always thought he was creepy.

As much as I want to jump from this seat and tear the town upside down searching for Rose, I need to think logically and not let the anger control me.

"How do we know that what you're saying is the truth? What if you're leading us onto a false trail?" Isadora pipes up with questions.

"Because I have no reason to come here and lie to you. Belle and I may be related but we're not the same person or alike. I am positive that she is behind this...besides I was the one who found out about her evil ways before".

"Before?", I find myself asking this time. "What did you mean before?"

"She's planned something like in high school when her boyfriend left her for someone else. Belle basically lost her mind and plotted the entire kidnapping and murder of the girl. Fortunately I found out before anything happened, told our parents about it and she was admitted into a psychiatric hospital for two months".

So she really is crazy. Matteo wasn't just saying it, he knew what he was talking about.

"Thank you for telling us". Darius says to her being the level headed man that he is.

Stacy once again offers a friendly smile, "I'm happy to help".

The tension in the living room is so palpable. All of us are on edge. Each of us sits lost in our thoughts. Processing this information brought forth by Stacy.

Tommy breaks the silence by asking the one question that has been hanging over my head since Stacy dropped this bomb on us, "So what do we do now?"

For the first time since Rose went missing, I finally have an answer, "Call Detective Clark and tell him to come and bring his team".

"I'll call Cable", Tommy offers to call the lead private investigator on this case. The very same guy who helped me to find out that Belle was cheating on me.

Hope fills my heart as I stand up and run up the stairs to go to my study. If this all works out well, I'll get her back.

I'm going to get my love back.

Mentally exhausted.

That's what I am. It's not from just thinking but from being in this room.

I have been declared a missing person. I know so because Paul was gracious enough to give me the remote for the TV in the bedroom. I watched the news and saw my face plastered on almost every news and entertainment channel.

It has been a rough week and a half. I am losing my mind from being trapped in this room like some prisoner.

Scrap that...prisoners are better than me. They get yard time, where they can get some exercise and stretch their legs. I'm more like a lab rat. A mouse in a box, with no freedom whatsoever.

Being in here is pychological torture. Each morning when I wake up and face the ceiling, my heart leaps for joy thinking that I am back home. I'm actually starting to hate this room. I hate the walls, the bedding, the decorations.

I hate everything about it.

I hate Paul.

I wake up every morning to his arm wrapped around my middle. I never hear him when he crawls into bed with me in the middle of the night, but somehow, every single morning I wake up to his brown eyes that I want to gouge out.

I never thought that I would harbour such hatred towards someone but apparently, anything is possible. He disgusts me.

One thing I am grateful for is how he hasn't tried anything to me yet. I mean sexually. Being raped on top of being abducted would be the one thing that sends me to the grave. I pray daily that God keeps me safe from anything like that happening.

Despite his lousy apology when he slapped me, he did it again, three nights ago. I still have a swollen cheek. I overheard him having an intense conversation with someone over the phone and when he caught me as I was leaning against the door, he got angry and slapped me so hard my left ear started ringing.

I laid on the floor not moving, just wishing that the carpeted floor opens up and swallows me into a painless abyss.

He lifted my body and slipped me under the covers.

This morning he made me a big, hearty breakfast, immediately after he brought the food, he left me in this makeshift prison. Once again lonely, with the walls and the television screen as my company.

After I eat, I stay in bed for the rest of the morning and early afternoon. The sound of the door opening pulls my focus away from the television screen. I wish I can say I was watching anything that was uplifting but I am crushing the already broken pieces of my soul by listening to the theories that people are conjuring about my 'disappearance' on one of the entertainment channels.

Paul urgently walks in sporting a pissed off look on his face. I watch as he goes to the walk-in closet and brings out two suitcases. He moves back and walks out with his arms filled with clothes.

My clothes.

He does this for a few seconds and fills the other suitcase with his clothes from the closet. Once he is done he moves to the bathroom and starts taking out all my toiletries and shoves them quickly onto the suitcase.

Alarm bells ring in my head.

"Once we're gone"

No! This can't be it.

"What are you doing?", I shakingly ask even though my mind already knows.

He doesn't look up from the suitcase he is zipping closed, "We're leaving"

I move from the bed and notice that he didn't close the door. I need to stall and think of a plan quickly. There is no way I am going anywhere with him.

"Leaving? Where are you taking me"

With the suitcases now placed near the foot of the bed, he slowly walks towards me. "Somewhere safe. Some place where we can be together...forever".

His hand moves to caress the very same cheek that he smacked a few nights ago, I shift my head to the side before he even touches me. My defiance makes a sliver of anger spark in his eyes.

I gather up some bravery and glare at him, "I'm not leaving".

"What?" he seems shocked by my words.

I stand my ground and move back, I need to get some distance between us, "You're not taking me anywhere. I would rather die than leave this place with you".

The only way I am leaving this place is if I escape or a rescue party comes to save me and takes Paul away in cuffs.

Darkness.

It consumes his eyes as the veins on his temple visibly pulsate.

He huffs and takes something out of his back pocket, "Why do you have to make things hard?" he asks angrily as he holds a syringe in his right hand.

Flashes of how I got to be here play at the back of my mind like a movie. I was drugged. I was taken from my family.

From my life.

From everything and everyone that I know. And you know what? It's not going to happen again.

The next few seconds seem to move in slow motion as he moves to shove the syringe onto my arm. I don't successfully dodge it as I feel the stinging pain of the needle lodged in my skin but I move quick enough to pull the needle out before he presses the back of the syringe and forces the drug into my system.

This throws him off a little and I use that small window of distraction to my advantage. I muster up some strength and throw a punch to his neck. I almost smile in satisfaction when my fist connects with his Adam's apple.

While he temporarily chokes, I push my way from him and run towards the door. I make it past the threshold and try to figure out which way I should go. My gut tells me to go to the left, so I quickly shuffle my bare feet forward.

I see a staircase railing. This must be the way out. I can already taste freedom. Before I reach the stairs, I feel his hand on my head as he drags me by my hair. The adrenaline pumping through me helps me to not focus on the pain but on fighting Paul off instead.

Twisting my head around, I ignore the fact that I just helped his grip tighten on my hair, I use my height to my advantage and punch him again. This time in his genitals. He immediately lets go of me and cups his crotch. He kneels and I throw in one last punch to his face before taking off towards the staircase.

"Rosalie!", he growls out in anger. I feel him behind me and I hear his footsteps pounding on the hardwood floor. It almost sounds like a rhino is charging towards me.

I reach the staircase and see the front door a few feet away from me. Just as I take the first step down, he pulls me back by my hair and this time I scream bloody murder. I am tired , I am in pain and whatever adrenalin I had is dissipating.

"You bitch!", he growls in my face before backhanding me so hard that I lose my step as he releases his grip on me and I topple down the stairs.

I feel my body tumble down about the tiled stairs. Sharp pain pulses through my body. My head hits the ground hard once my shoulders slip past the last step. The loud thud of my skull against the marble floor, echoing loudly.

I hear Paul call out to me, panic laces his tone, his fast approaching footsteps down the stairs, as my eyelids become heavy.

The front door suddenly bursts open as I feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness. The shards of glass lay broken on the floor and wood splinters litter on the floor.

Just as the darkness takes me , I hear the voice that I have been wishing to hear for such a long time.

Thank you God.

"Take one more step towards her and I will kill you". The deadly threat would send a shiver down my spine if my head wasn't bleeding out.

A weak smile forms on my lips as I close my eyes, allowing the darkness to pull me into a dreamless state.

Lex is here.