Page 31 of Sanctuary

I ended the call and strode with determination toward the front desk, barely containing my panic. The young clerk looked up as I approached, his professional smile faltering slightly at my expression.

“Sir? Can I help you?”

“I need to see your security footage from the past hour,” I said, my voice low. “My wife—” the word felt strange on my tongue, “—disappeared during the fire alarm, and I think someone took her.”

The clerk’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t just show you our security footage. That would require authorization from—”

He stopped talking as I leaned in. My patience evaporating, I said, “Listen to me very carefully. My name is Connor O’Brien. My family owns half the businesses between here and Toronto. I just got married today, and now my wife is missing. So either you show me that footage right now, or you will all be fired come morning because I’ll own this fucking hotel by then.”

The clerk swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “I’ll... I’ll need to get my manager.”

“Then get them. Now,” I snapped.

Five excruciating minutes later, I was being led into a small, windowless room filled with monitors. The hotel manager, an annoyed looking woman in her fifties, gestured to a chair beside the security guard.

“Mr. O’Brien, I understand your concern, but I must emphasize that this is highly unusual,” she said, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Our security footage is confidential.”

“Like I give a fuck,” I bit out. “My wife is missing from your hotel, I might add. I’m sure the public would love to know how much you care about your guests.”

The security guard, a young kid who didn’t even look like he was old enough to have graduated high school, swung his gaze to look up at the manager, who gave a curt nod.

“What time did this happen?” he asked, fingers poised over the keyboard.

“About twenty-five minutes ago, during the fire alarm. We were outside and got separated in the crowd.”

The guard nodded, typing rapidly. The screens flickered, and suddenly there we were— Mia and I, emerging from the hotel. I watched as we were separated by the surge of panicked guests. My heart pounded as I saw her looking around frantically, calling out for me.

Then I saw it. A man in a dark jacket appeared behind her, grabbing her arm. She turned, surprise and fear flashed across her features. The man pressed something to her face—a cloth or handkerchief. Her struggle was brief before she went limp in his arms.

“There!” I shouted, pointing at the screen. “That man took her!”

The security guard zoomed in, the image grainy but clear enough. The man’s face was partially hidden, but I could make out sharp features and dark hair. He half-carried, half-dragged Mia through the crowd.

“Can you follow them on another camera?” I demanded, my blood running cold.

The guard switched to another feed, showing the man loading her unconscious form into the back of a black van. A second man was behind the wheel, ready to drive away.

“I need the license plate,” I said, my voice tight with controlled panic.

The guard zoomed in again, but the plate was deliberately obscured with mud.

“I’m calling the police,” the manager announced, reaching for the phone.

“Don’t you dare,” I said, my mind racing. “Can you get me a clearer image of the men’s faces? And check if there’s anything distinctive about that van—dents, stickers, anything.”

As the guard worked on enhancing the images, I pulled out my phone and called Rory again.

“They took her,” I said without a greeting when he answered. “Two men. Black van, license plate was covered in mud. I’m looking at the security footage now.”

“Shit,” Rory muttered. “Send me whatever you can get. I’ll have the team tracking every black van within a hundred-mile radius.”

“I’m going after them,” I said, my decision made.

“Connor, you have nothing to go on. Wait for backup. You don’t know who these guys are or what they’re capable of.”

“You’re right. But I can’t just sit around and wait, she’s Wren’s sister and my wife now,” I said, reminding him. Then a thought occurred to me. I gave Mia her purse right after I stuffed her phone inside. “How can we track her cell phone? She’s got it with her.”

“Her phone!” Rory exclaimed. “Brilliant. Give me her number.”

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