Accidentally Crossing the Tycoon Chapter 183

Audrey's POV:

The shrill ring of my phone jolted me awake.

I fumbled in the darkness, my fingers searching blindly across the nightstand until they closed around the vibrating device.

"Hello?" My voice was thick with sleep.

"Audrey!" Emma's panicked voice sent a bolt of adrenaline through me.

"I can't reach Jasper. He's not answering his phone, and his last message was cryptic—something about making things right. I've tried everything. I think he's—"

I sat up straight, instantly alert. "How long has he been unreachable?"

"Twelve hours. That's never happened, not even when he was in deep cover."

A cold weight settled in my stomach. Jasper was many things, but unreliable wasn't one of them.

"I'm rebooking our flights. We're leaving today," I said, already swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

"Pack only what you need. I'll meet you at JFK in three hours."

I hung up and jumped into action, grabbing only my passport and wallet.

Caspar had left early for a meeting, and Noah would still be asleep for another hour at least.

My heart clenched as I realized I wouldn't be able to say goodbye to either of them.

I hesitated at Noah's door, my hand on the knob, but stopped myself. Instead, I scribbled a quick note about an emergency gallery situation and left it on the kitchen counter.

With one last glance at the quiet hallway leading to Noah's room, I slipped out of the house and into the waiting taxi.

---

The flight to London felt interminable. Emma kept checking her phone despite the airplane mode, as if Jasper might somehow break through the technological barriers and reach her.

"He knew the risks," I said quietly as our plane began its descent. "But that doesn't mean he accepted them."

Emma's knuckles were white as she gripped the armrest.

"If he did something stupid and noble—"

"Then I'll drag him back by his ears," I finished with fierce determination.

After landing, we deliberately took a circuitous route from Heathrow. Just in case someone was tracking our movements.

The London evening was unseasonably warm as we walked the final distance to Jasper's Chelsea apartment. Street lights cast long shadows, and my heart hammered against my ribs with each step.

"Look," Emma pointed suddenly, "the lights are on."

Hope flickered across her face, and she quickened her pace.

By the time we reached the building's entrance, she was practically running. Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the key.

"He might still be here," she whispered, more to herself than to me.

The elevator ride to the fifth floor felt endless.

Emma tapped her foot impatiently, her eyes fixed on the numbers lighting up one by one.

When we reached Jasper's door, Emma didn't hesitate. She thrust the key into the lock and pushed it open.

"Jasper?" Her voice echoed through the apartment. "Jasper, are you here?"

Silence answered her.

I followed her inside, noting the strange stillness of the place.

Everything was immaculate, as always—Jasper's military precision evident in every carefully placed item—but something felt off.

The lights were on, but there was no sign of life.

Emma moved through the apartment with increasing desperation, calling his name.

I headed toward his workspace, a converted second bedroom where he conducted most of his research.

The door was ajar. I pushed it open to find Emma standing frozen in the middle of the room, staring at something on Jasper's desk.

"Em?" I approached carefully.

She didn't respond, her eyes fixed on a small pill bottle and an envelope beside it.

My heart sank as I picked up the letter.

The handwriting was unmistakably Jasper's—neat, precise strokes. I scanned it quickly, the words blurring slightly as their meaning hit me.

*I've negotiated a deal. My freedom for your safety. The antidote is in the bottle—enough for both of you.*

*Don't come after me. This was my choice. Live your lives.*

*—J*

"That bastard actually went and played hero," I whispered, the paper trembling in my hand.

Emma snatched the letter from me, her eyes racing over the words. Her face crumpled as the reality sank in.

"That selfless *idiot*," she choked out before collapsing into the desk chair, tears streaming down her face.

I reached for her, but she shook her head violently, clutching the letter to her chest.

"I need to be alone," she managed between sobs. "Just... give me a minute."

I nodded, stepping back to give her space.

Eventually, her crying subsided, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion.

I helped her to Jasper's bedroom, where she curled onto his pillow, breathing in whatever lingered of his scent.

"I'll wake you if there's any news," I promised as her eyelids drooped.

Once Emma's breathing steadied into sleep, I quietly slipped out of the room.

I had no intention of sitting around waiting for news.

Jasper wouldn't have sacrificed himself if our situations were reversed, and I wasn't about to let him play the martyr.

I made my way to his workspace and headed straight for the corner cabinet—the one he thought I didn't know about.

Kneeling down, I felt along the bottom edge until my fingers found the hidden latch. The false panel slid away silently, revealing a small arsenal: two handguns with silencers, three passports with different identities, and a set of lock picks.

"You always were prepared for the worst," I muttered, checking that the 9mm was loaded before tucking it into my waistband.

I couldn't—wouldn't—let Jasper sacrifice himself for me.

The Organization would have to deal with both of us, or neither. I'd survived their games for years; I wasn't about to start losing now.

Just as I was about to head for the door, a sound from the living room froze me in place—the distinct click of the front door unlocking.

My body tensed instinctively.

Drawing the gun, I moved silently toward the hallway, keeping close to the wall. The floor creaked near the entrance, followed by the soft thud of footsteps.

One person? Maybe two? I couldn't be sure.

I held my breath, finger hovering near the trigger as I edged around the corner.