From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer novel Chapter 48

**Chapter 12**

In the bustling lobby of the precinct, Alexander’s assistant, Jones, stood rigidly at the front desk, his posture as straight as a ruler. A carefully crafted smile adorned his face, masking the anxiety that churned within him.

“Officer,” he began, his voice steady despite the tension in the air, “we have a situation. A key employee from our company is missing, and we urgently need your assistance in locating her.”

The desk officer glanced up, his expression shifting from routine to alert. “What is the name and ID number of the missing person?” he inquired, fingers poised over the keyboard, ready to input crucial information.

“Her name is Olivia Hayes. Her ID number is—”

A sudden realization struck Jones. Officer Hayes?

The officer’s fingers hesitated for a brief moment, and he scrutinized Jones with a discerning gaze. “What is your relationship to the missing person?” he asked, his tone now tinged with curiosity.

“I’m her boss’s assistant,” Jones replied, his heart racing as he felt the weight of the officer’s scrutiny.

The officer’s eyes roamed over Jones, assessing him thoroughly before he closed the computer window with a definitive click. “Understood. We’ll reach out to you if we have any updates,” he stated, his tone dismissive.

Jones felt a frown tug at his lips, sensing the brush-off. “But her last known location was this precinct. Can we please review the surveillance footage? My boss is extremely concerned about her well-being,” he pressed, desperation creeping into his voice.

The officer’s demeanor remained cool and unyielding. “Surveillance footage is not available for public viewing. You’ll be contacted if there are any developments,” he replied, his voice devoid of empathy.

Just as Jones was about to press the matter further, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor behind him.

“Officer Hayes, I need you to sign off on this report, please,” a familiar female voice called out.

“Okay,” the officer responded, his tone shifting slightly.

Jones spun around, his heart leaping at the sight before him. At the end of the corridor stood Olivia Hayes, clad in a crisp police uniform, confidently handing a file to a tall man beside her.

Her hair was cut short and neatly styled, a service weapon holstered at her hip. The transformation was striking; she was unrecognizable from the silent, submissive bodyguard he had once known.

“Miss Hayes!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with surprise and relief.

For a fleeting moment, Olivia’s back stiffened, a hint of recognition flickering in her posture. But without turning or breaking her stride, she swiftly rounded the corner, leaving Jones in a whirlwind of confusion.

Ethan, the tall man beside her, halted abruptly, blocking Jones’s path. His sharp gaze, magnified by his glasses, settled on the Pierce Industries badge that adorned Jones’s chest. “Are you looking for someone?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

Jones eyed him cautiously, feeling a surge of apprehension. “Yes, I’m looking for the woman who just passed—Olivia Hayes. She’s my boss’s bodyguard. And you are?” he replied, trying to maintain his composure.

Ethan casually closed the file he had been holding, but his eyes remained guarded. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “There’s no ‘Miss Hayes’ you’re looking for here. You should leave,” he warned, an unmistakable edge in his tone.

Jones felt a chill run down his spine, cowed into silence by the man’s intimidating presence. Yet, he was certain of what he had seen. That was undeniably Olivia Hayes. But why was she wearing a SWAT uniform?

With urgency, he relayed this startling discovery to Alexander.

“Mr. Pierce, we’ve confirmed that Miss Hayes’s last known location was the police precinct,” he reported, his voice steady despite the turmoil within.

The precinct?

Alexander, behind the wheel of his car, slammed on the brakes, his heart racing as he processed the information.

Her memory is back.

The Olivia who had once taken knives for him, who had shared his bed and vowed to stand by him through thick and thin… had truly cast him aside.

“Meet me at the office. I need all the details,” Alexander commanded, ending the call abruptly, his mind racing with dark thoughts.

In the penthouse office of Pierce Tower, Alexander sprang to his feet, his office chair clattering to the floor in his haste.

“She was in uniform?! Are you absolutely certain?” he demanded, disbelief coloring his tone.

Jones nodded, his expression serious. “Yes, and the man with her seemed hostile, as if he was deliberately blocking me from approaching her.”

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