Please Harder, Professor

Chapter 236

Adrian’s POV

The call comes at 2:47 AM. I'm not asleep, haven't been asleep in any meaningful way for weeks, so I answer on the first ring.

"Lewis."

"Adrian." Vincent sounds tired but alert. "We have something. Not confirmation, but a lead."

I sit up immediately, the bedroom spinning slightly from the sudden movement and lack of sleep. "What is it?"

"Bellamy has historical ties to Geneva, Switzerland. His wife—Olivia—she had family there. Her parents moved back after she died. Bellamy visited them twice with Noah. Once three years ago, once last summer."

Geneva. Switzerland. Four thousand miles away, just like I suspected.

"Is he there now?" My voice is tight, controlled. "Do you have confirmation?"

"No, but it fits the pattern. Remote enough for privacy, international to complicate jurisdictional issues, connections that would make settling in easier. If I were planning to disappear with someone, Geneva would be on my shortlist."

It's not proof, not even close to proof. But it's more than we've had in over a month.

"Send me everything you have—addresses, contacts, anything related to that family."

"Already on its way to your email. Adrian," Vincent pauses. "This could be nothing. Don't get your hopes up too high."

"I'm going there."

"I figured you would. Be careful. If he is there and he sees you coming…"

"I know." I do know. If Bellamy realizes we've found him, he could run again. Could disappear even more thoroughly, or hurt Sophie if he feels cornered.

But I can't sit here anymore, can't wait for confirmation that might never come. If there's even a chance Sophie is in Geneva, I'm going.

After I hang up, I book flights. The earliest one leaves at 7:15 AM. I'll make it if I leave now.

I move quietly through the apartment, packing a bag. Passport. Cash. Clothes for a week because I don't know how long this will take.

My mother's spare key is on the counter. She'll need to stay here with Amelia while I'm gone. I text her: Geneva lead. Flying out at 7. Need you here by 6.

The response comes immediately, because apparently my mother doesn't sleep anymore either: On my way.

I should try to rest for a few hours. Should be sharp for whatever comes next. But my mind won't stop racing with possibilities.

Sophie in Geneva. Sophie in some apartment, some building, somewhere I could actually reach if I just knew where to look.

Sophie alive and waiting.

At 5:30 AM, I'm giving final instructions to my mother in the living room when Claire arrives.

She's early, wasn't supposed to be here until seven, but she must have gotten my text about the schedule change.

"Mr. Lewis?" She looks concerned, taking in the scene: my packed bag, my mother here before dawn, the tension in the air. "Is everything alright?"

"I have to travel for a few days. My mother will be here to help with Amelia."

"Oh." Claire sets down her purse. "Well, if there's anything I can do…"

"Just maintain Amelia's normal routine," Mom says crisply, already taking control. "I'll handle everything else."

I go through Amelia's schedule with both of them even though they both already know it. Feeding times. Nap times. What she likes when she's fussy. It's unnecessary repetition but I can't stop myself.

My daughter is sleeping now, oblivious to the fact that her father might be hours away from finding her mother.

At 6:45, I need to leave for the airport. I go to the nursery one last time.

Amelia is in her crib, breathing softly, her little fist curled near her face. She's grown so much in the past month. Sophie has missed so much.

"I'm going to bring Mama home," I whisper, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "I promise, baby girl. Daddy's going to bring her back."

When I turn to leave, Claire is in the doorway.

"I put her down for the night earlier," she says softly. "She was so good, went right to sleep."

"Thank you."

I move to pass her, but she doesn't step aside immediately. Instead, she reaches out and touches my arm.

"Mr. Lewis… Adrian. I wish I could do more to help you through this difficult time." Her voice is gentle, sympathetic. "You've been so strong, but I can see how much you're struggling. If there's anything I can do..."

Her hand slides down from my arm to my wrist, fingers trailing against my skin in a way that feels deliberate. Intimate. Wrong.

I pull away, uncomfortable with the contact and the tone.

"Just focus on Amelia," I say, keeping my voice neutral but firm. "That's what I need."

Claire's expression flickers—something I can't quite read, there and gone in a second. Disappointment? Frustration? Whatever it is, she smooths it away quickly.

"Of course," she says, stepping back. "Safe travels, Mr. Lewis."

I leave without looking back.

My mother walks me to the door. "That girl is positioning herself, Adrian. Be careful."

"Mom."

"I'm serious. She's using the situation, using your vulnerability, to get close to you. And when Sophie comes home—"

"If she comes home," I correct, the words bitter.

"When," She insists. "When Sophie comes home, that nanny is going to be a problem if you don't set clear boundaries now."

"I don't care about Claire." The words come out harder than I intend. "I don't care about anything except finding Sophie. Claire could propose marriage and I wouldn't notice. The only woman I see, the only woman I want, is four thousand miles away."

Mother squeezes my shoulder. "I know, darling, I know. But be aware. That's all I'm saying."

I hug her. "Take care of Amelia."

"Always. Now go. Bring our girl home."

***

The flight is eleven hours.

Eleven hours to think about what I'll do when I land. How to find Sophie in a city of half a million people with nothing but a connection to a dead woman's family.

Eleven hours to imagine finding her. Seeing her face. Hearing her voice.

Eleven hours to torture myself with the possibility that this is another dead end. That Geneva is just one more place Bellamy has ties to but isn't actually in. That Sophie could be anywhere and I'm chasing shadows.

I don't sleep, can't sleep.

I stare at the seat back in front of me and replay every conversation with Bellamy, looking for clues I missed. Every mention of international travel. Every comment about Europe or Switzerland or anything that might have hinted at his plans.

Had he been planning this for months? Years? Since Olivia died and left him broken? Since I saved his life in that warehouse and inadvertently created the man who would one day destroy mine?

The irony isn't lost on me. I saved Bellamy, gave him a future. And he repaid me by stealing mine.

By the time we land in Geneva, I'm exhausted and wired and ready to tear the city apart if that's what it takes.

Sophie is here, I can feel it. That instinct that kept me alive in my father's world, that's served me in business—it's screaming that this is real.

She's here.

And I'm going to find her.