The night was electric. Flashing lights from hundreds of cameras, music pounding through the grand hall, and all eyes were on Emily Hart's latest collection. This was the moment she had worked for her entire life—the ultimate success of Hart Couture. The models paraded down the runway, draped in her finest designs, a culmination of years of passion and struggle. But Emily couldn't shake the dread in her gut. Something was coming.

As the last model turned at the end of the catwalk, the lights in the room flickered. The crowd murmured, some pulling out their phones, confused by the sudden glitch. Emily's heart raced as she stood backstage, frozen, scanning the crowd for Daniel, the man who had threatened her for weeks. Where was he?

Her phone buzzed again—another message. This time, it was a photo. It was Noah, sitting in their living room, a shadowy figure in the background. "Time's up."

Emily's heart nearly stopped. Everything around her blurred as her mind zeroed in on one thought: Noah. She bolted from backstage, pushing past the models and crew, running out of the venue and into the Paris streets. She had no idea how long it would take her to get home, but she didn't care. Every second was too long.

Ring... Ring... She called Alex as she ran. Pick up. Please, pick up! Finally, the line connected.

"Alex!" she screamed into the phone, panting. "He has Noah!"

"Stay calm. I'm on my way to your place now. Call the police," Alex's calm voice was a lifeline in the chaos.

Emily's heart pounded in her ears as she jumped into the back of a cab, barely able to form words. "To the Hart Residence—hurry!" She could barely breathe. The minutes felt like hours, her thoughts consumed with terror. "Please be okay, Noah. Please."