The office of billionaire Daniel Johnson was a sight to behold. In the early hours of the morning, the sun had not yet risen over the city skyline, and the office was shrouded in darkness. But despite the lack of light, the office was illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, which filtered in through the large windows that lined the walls.

But any beauty the room once held was lost in the fury of Daniel. Papers were strewn about haphazardly, some crumpled and torn, while others had been thrown against the wall in a fit of rage. The expensive leather chair that Daniel usually sat in was overturned and lay on its side, while the desk was pushed back against the wall, creating a large dent in the drywall.

Daniel was pacing back and forth, his hands clenched tightly into fists, his breathing heavy and labored. His face was flushed with anger, and his eyes blazed with a fierce intensity. He had been waiting for weeks to hear back from the inspector who he had hired to find his mistress, and the news that he had received had not been what he had hoped for.

"Dammit," he muttered to himself, "I paid that man a fortune, and he can't even find a single lead. What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

The memory of his mistress, Marie, flooded his mind, and he felt a wave of sadness wash over him. It had been months since she had vanished without a trace, and every day since then, he had been consumed with thoughts of her. He had been so sure that he was one step closer to finding her, and now, with the news that the inspector had failed, he felt as though he had been thrown back to square one.

Daniel had met Marie at a charity event, and he had been instantly drawn to her. She was beautiful, intelligent, and had a quick wit that kept him on his toes. They had started seeing each other, and Daniel had fallen deeply in love with her. He had even gone so far as to leave his wife and children, something he had never thought he would do.

But then, one day, she had vanished. At first, Daniel had thought that she had simply needed some time to herself, that she had gone on a trip or something. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, he began to fear the worst.

He had hired private investigators and put up rewards for information, but none of it had led him any closer to finding her. And now, with the news that the inspector he had hired had failed, he felt as though he was never going to find her.

"Useless," he muttered, his voice low and filled with anger. "All of them, useless."

He kicked a pile of papers across the room, and they scattered in all directions. He had always prided himself on his ability to control his emotions, to keep a level head even in the face of adversity. But this situation was different. This was his Marie, the woman he loved, and he would do anything to find her.

He grabbed a vase from his desk and hurled it across the room, shattering it against the wall. He let out a roar of frustration, and it echoed through the empty office. He had never felt so helpless, so lost.

Suddenly, the door to the office opened, and Daniel turned to face the intruder. It was his assistant, Jane, a woman in her early thirties who had worked for him for years. She took one look at the state of the room and let out a small gasp.

"Daniel, what's going on?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Nothing," he said through gritted teeth.