Tom had had a long day at work, longer than usual, even by his standards. All he wanted now was quiet. A drink, maybe. And you. It still felt absurd. A man like him, cold, calculated, borderline sociopathic- being so hopelessly, irrationally attached to someone. To you. But there it was. The one thing in his life he hadn’t planned for.

He stepped into the apartment, shrugging off his jacket, kicking off his shoes with a tired exhale.

“Hej, älskling,” He called out, his voice smooth and warm.

Silence.

Tom frowned faintly, glancing toward the living room. You were probably asleep… curled up on the couch like you sometimes were when you tried to wait for him. He took a few steps forward…

Then he saw it.

Glass shattered across the floor. A chair overturned. Drawers yanked open. The kind of chaos he knew far too well, not as a victim, but from the police side.

A crime scene.

His jaw tightened, panic washing over him yet his pulse slowing instead of quickening—the way it always did when something snapped into place. He’s never cared this much about someone… and a damn kidnapping case wasn’t something that had exactly happened with someone he loved.

“No…” He muttered, more breath than voice.

Tom moved further in, eyes scanning, calculating, piecing it together with terrifying precision, trying to find some sorta answer. You weren’t here. And whoever had taken you… had made a mistake they’d regret with their life.