Revenge of the Missing Wife Chapter 18

Revenge of the Missing Wife Chapter 18

Just as Carter Thorne had said, Eleanor would probably never come back. 

And yet, no matter how far Landon sank into self-destruction, he still woke up under blinding white lights. 

Julian and the others had brought him to the hospital. 

When he opened his eyes, Julian finally let out a breath of relief and started talking nonstop. 

“Landon, man, I know you’re in a bad place, but you can’t play with your life like that.” 

“If you really died, Eleanor would never know you regret it. My brother may like her, but he hasn’t found her yet. You still have a chance.” 

“Even if you can’t get back together, at least find her. Explain everything. Tell her you regret it.” 

“Do you really want her to hate you forever? To always remember you as a complete bastard?” 

Landon listened, his expression shifting slightly. 

After a long silence, he finally nodded, his voice hoarse. 

“You’re right. I have to find her… apologize to her and her parents… explain everything.” 

“Maybe… maybe she’ll forgive me.” 

Julian and the others didn’t shatter that nearly impossible hope. 

Having something to live for was better than letting him die in despair. 

None of them wanted a death on their hands. 

When they had broken into his private room the night before and found him barely breathing, they had almost lost it. 

They had rushed him to the hospital, pumped his stomach, and barely managed to save his life. 

Once they were sure he was stable, they left. 

The hospital room fell silent, leaving Landon alone. 

He couldn’t sit still for even a minute. 

Chapter 18 

He immediately called his assistant, Alex. 

“Any news about Eleanor and her family?” 

There was a long pause on the other end, followed by a heavy sigh. 

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“Sir… after changing their identities through a protection program, Miss Vance and her family flew to France. But they left shortly after.” 

“They’re now using new identity documents. Tracking them by appearance alone is like looking for a needle in a haystack.” 

“We’ve identified a few European cities they stayed in temporarily, but their current location is still… unknown.” 

“Our reach in Europe is limited. Finding them will take time.” 

Landon pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing down the irritation rising in his chest. 

“Increase the search. Keep going.” 

“And gather every matter that requires my in-person attention. Compress everything into three days.” 

“After that, switch the rest online. I’m going to Europe.” 

Alex knew he had made up his mind and didn’t question him further. He immediately began making arrangements. 

For the next three days, Landon worked nonstop from his hospital bed, handling a mountain of pending business. 

He had no choice but to rush. 

Carter Thorne had already been searching in Europe for some time. He was already too late-he couldn’t afford to fall 

further behind. 

Once everything was handled, he packed lightly and boarded the earliest private flight to Paris. 

The plane cut through the blue sky, leaving a long white trail behind it. 

Paris. 

On the Champs-Élysées, Landon wandered aimlessly, searching. 

Truthfully, he had no idea where to start. 

Chapter 18 

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He didn’t know where Eleanor would go. 

Every place she had once casually mentioned wanting to visit-every city, every landmark-he went to them all. 

And still, he found nothing. 

Day after day, disappointment replaced hope. 

One day… five days… half a month… 

He had lost track of time. 

He had grown thinner. 

Constant travel had tanned his skin slightly, but the dark circles under his eyes only deepened. Bloodshot veins filled his gaze. 

As long as there was no news of her, he couldn’t sleep. 

The torment inside him was unbearable-far worse than any physical wound. 

If she appeared before him now, even if she tore him apart, it would still be better than this endless torture of longing and regret. 

So this was what it felt like to wait for someone who might never return. 

Landon Blackwood truly regretted everything. 

If he could turn back time, he would tear apart the version of himself who had made that single, fatal mistake. 

Empty-eyed, numb, he continued searching the foreign streets.