The 99th Game Was Mine All Along novel Chapter 91

Castro repeatedly called a number he knew wouldn't answer.

Every year, he'd meticulously set a reminder for my birthday - August 27th. This morning, the alert had woken him in Oriana's guest room, the familiar chime cutting through his dreams.

His first instinct had been to head to Whole Foods, to buy ingredients for the birthday dinner he'd planned.

The custom Cartier bracelet he'd ordered months ago was still hidden in his office safe.

But seeing Oriana at breakfast, limping slightly, had given him pause. After all, I still hadn't apologized.

He couldn't understand it. I'd always been the reasonable one - why was I being so stubborn this time?

After spending half the day restlessly checking his phone at Oriana's, he finally headed home.

The moment he stepped into the penthouse, he felt like he'd walked into a stranger's home. He actually stepped back out, checked the apartment number, and re-entered.

The space had reverted to its pre-Aveline state - stark, minimalist, cold.

In a frenzy, he searched every room for traces of me. The vintage Polaroids from Paris, gone. The sketchbook I kept by the window seat, vanished. The coffee machine he'd bought because I couldn't function without my morning latte - replaced with his old French press.

"What the hell is happening?" he whispered, frantically dialing my number only to be greeted by voicemail.

His Instagram messages bounced back - blocked. WhatsApp showed one grey tick, then nothing.

If not for the ghost of my perfume still lingering in the closet, he might have thought he'd imagined the last seven years.

In desperation, he opened Find My Friends - the app we'd used to surprise each other with lunch dates.

My location was dark, but the history showed one last ping from two weeks ago. I'd come within a hundred feet of his location, hesitated, then disappeared.