Single Dad's Spring Break: A Billionaire's Second Chance Romance

“She’s not here, Kevin.”

“The waterslide.”

“Kevin. Sydney isn’t here.”

“The closet? The pantry? The fucking ductwork?”

My heart was slamming against my chest as I tapped the shoulder of the cab driver.

“As fast as you can and there’s a massive tip in it for you,” I said.

“I’ve looked everywhere. I swear to you, Kevin. It was up the steps to the porch and in through the back doors. I watched her all the way in.”

“She’s gotta be somewhere, Brooke. Sydney’s favorite game is hide-and-seek. Check the cabinets in the kitchen. I’m on my way home.”

The cab screeched to a halt and I threw a wad of cash at the driver. I bolted out of the car, started up the steps and found Brooke in the kitchen. All of the kitchen doors were open and pans were on the floor. I heard the patter of little footsteps and watched as Daniel slid around the corner.

“Not under the beds,” he said.

“Did you check under the bathroom sinks?” Brooke asked.

“Yeah,” Daniel said.

“Is it possible she ran up the beach?” Brooke asked.

“We can check.”

I watched her jump before she knocked her head on the corner of the counter. I rushed over to her side and pulled her into my arms, cradling her head. She was crying. Her shoulders were shaking with sobs. Daniel was clinging to my leg as my eyes darted around the beach out back, looking around for my daughter.

My little princess.

Where the hell was she?

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go check the beach.”

The three of us headed out and ran up and the down the beach calling her name. I looked out into the water, preparing for the worst. I never thought I would hate those crystal clear waters as much as I did at that moment. Because no matter how long I looked, I didn’t see her.

Not her eyes. Not her body.

Nothing.

We ran up and down the two-mile stretch of beach purchased only for us. And she was nowhere to be found. She wasn’t in the brush or behind the trees. She wasn’t in the house or out in the water. She wasn’t even playing at the edge of the property near the damn road.

Sydney was nowhere to be found.

“Emergency services.”

“Yes, I need the island’s best detectives at my house now,” I said.

“What’s the address?”

I rattled off my address as Brooke clung to my son.

“What’s the emergency?”

“My daughter,” I said.

“And what’s wrong with her?”