My Dad's Bestfriend (Evelyn and Jacob) novel Chapter 229

Jacob

That bastard got to her.

And the regret in my chest—fuck, it had never burned this deep.

I shouldn't have left her alone. I knew she was reckless. I knew she'd try to do something desperate, yet I still walked away, believing I could get to her before she made another one of her damn escape plans.

But never—never—while driving back home did I think I'd receive that call.

Bianca. Sobbing. Panicking. Screaming that Tyler Ricci had his hands on my Evie. And our baby.

I swear to God, my heart stopped beating. Terror, rage, the sickening flood of possibilities—each one worse than the last—slammed into my ribs, clawing at my insides, threatening to break me apart.

I didn't know what to do. I'd called the police. Taken every legal step I could. But I knew—deep down, I fucking knew—this wouldn't be enough. Tyler wasn't the same coward who once feared the media, feared the consequences. That version of him was gone.

He wanted revenge. By any means. So here I was, gripping the wheel of my car, gun on the passenger seat, tearing through every corner of the city like a madman.

Every location I had suspected, every hideout I thought he might be in—nothing. No sign of her.

No leads. Not from Dad. Not from Bianca. Not from Mom or any of my friends—everyone out there searching for Evelyn was coming up empty-handed.

And then—

My phone binged. I grabbed it so fast my fingers fumbled. An unknown number. A message notification.

A video....

My breath hitched. My pulse pounded against my skull. Tyler. I knew it was from him. I could feel it in my fucking gut. Jerking the car to the side, I slammed the brakes—almost crashing into another vehicle. The driver stormed to my window, fists banging against the glass, screaming obscenities.

I didn't care.

I didn't fucking care.

I had only one focus. The video.

My hands trembled as I pressed play. And there she was.

Evelyn. Tied to a chair.

Unconscious. Gagged. The room around her was dark, filthy—some godforsaken hellhole. My chest caved in. I wanted to reach through the screen, touch her. Hold her. She must be in pain. She must be terrified.

And I? I was a fucking failure. I failed her. I fucking failed.

Then, Tyler's voice shattered the silence.

"Shocked, Jacob?"

He stepped into the frame, standing right beside Evelyn. My Evelyn.

"Well," he drawled, a sick smirk curling his lips, "I've got your beautiful treasure right here. And you know the best part?" He lifted the knife in his hand, the blade glinting under the dim light. My breath hitched. A guttural, broken sound tore from my throat, something between a shout and a desperate plea. I didn't even know what I was saying—if he could even hear me.

"I can kill her while she's unconscious," he murmured, his voice dripping with mockery. "She won't feel a thing. Straight to the gates of heaven." He tilted his head, considering. "Why heaven, though? A masterpiece like this belongs in paradise."

He traced the knife along her shoulder, slow and deliberate, while his other hand brushed her hair away from her face.

He was touching her.

That sick fuck was touching her.

His filthy hands. That fucking knife.

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