Chapter 2

Elowen's POV

I hailed a cab, booked a room at a hotel downtown for a week, and the moment the door clicked shut, my legs gave out.

I collapsed onto the carpet, utterly drained. The physical and mental toll of a thirty-day investigation had hollowed me out completely.

The thick manila envelope of investigator files slipped from my numb fingers, scattering photos and financial records across the floor.

Staring at the documents, the bitter truth mocked me.

For years, I had paid a fortune to private investigators to dig into Jasper's affairs, always hitting dead ends.

Yet this time, the puzzle pieces had snapped together with terrifying ease.

When I had publicly humiliated Lenora and forced her to resign from North Voss Enterprises, Jasper hadn't just comforted her.

He had funneled a massive corporate endowment to a prestigious local university, securing Lenora a cushy administrative director role.

During that exact same period, my father's family-owned textile manufacturing plant had hit a brutal financial crisis.

My dad had swallowed his pride and gone to Jasper for a bailout.

Instead of helping, Jasper had manipulated him into signing a predatory acquisition contract, stripping my family of our last remaining assets. The sheer shock of the commercial fraud had induced the fatal stroke that killed my father.

I used to throw my dramatic tantrums because I arrogantly believed Jasper loved me enough to tolerate them.

I thought he was just straying, and that eventually, he would remember his vows and come back to me.

I never realized he had been destroying my life to avenge Lenora.

The sickest irony?

Jasper's very first round of seed funding—the money that built North Voss Enterprises—came from my father.

I had knelt on floors for three days, begging my dad to invest in the man I loved.

I don't know how many days I spent trapped in a feverish, nightmarish sleep on that hotel floor.

When I finally dragged myself up, my phone screen was flooded with notifications.

"Elowen, where the hell are you? Why aren't you home?"

"Lenora is officially moving in. The whole-house security surveillance system has been upgraded, so whatever manipulative stunt you're planning, drop it."

"What is it this time? Playing the runaway? Or are you staging another fake kidnapping? Come home when you're done throwing your little fit."

My chest hollowed out reading that last text.

Two years ago, I was kidnapped.

A rival corporate faction had snatched me off the street, intending to hold Jasper's wife for ransom.

But after days of terror in a dark, freezing warehouse, my captors dumped me on a roadside. They had done their research and realized the woman constantly photographed by Jasper's side at every corporate gala and industry summit was Lenora.

They thought they had grabbed the wrong woman.

When I finally stumbled home, bruised and traumatized, Jasper hadn't even looked up from his laptop.

"Are you done with this performance?" he had sighed.

Now, I swiped away his cruel messages, my eyes catching a generic automated text from the greasy late-night diner we used to frequent.

Your loyalty rewards are expiring. Come in to claim your anniversary discount.

We had signed up for that program five years ago, celebrating Jasper's first successful software launch over cheap food.

After a scalding shower, I forced myself out of the hotel. I needed to eat before I could figure out how to survive.

Sitting in our old booth, the waitress set down a steaming basket of fries.

The heat made my eyes sting. I took a bite.

The fries tasted exactly the same, but no matter how I mixed the ketchup, mayo, and hot sauce, I couldn't recreate the signature dipping sauce Jasper used to make for me.

"It's a proprietary blend," he used to tease, pinching my cheek. "My secret recipe, just to keep you hooked."

Tears finally spilled over, hot and fast, splashing onto the diner table.

The waitress stepped forward, looking concerned, but the chime of the front door bell interrupted her.

"Welcome in! Table for two?"

"Yes."

That familiar baritone sent a violent shiver down my spine.

Jasper must have received the same automated loyalty text. We used to come here all the time, sitting by the window, splitting a massive vanilla milkshake.

But this time, the woman clinging to his arm wasn't me.

Lenora spotted me instantly. She froze, her nails digging into Jasper's sleeve as she let out a loud, theatrical gasp.

"Jasper, did she leave a GPS tracker on your car? Is she stalking us?" she whimpered, shrinking against him.

"Can we please go somewhere else? I'm scared."

The bell chimed again as Jasper turned them around, walking out without a second glance.

A moment later, my phone buzzed on the table.

"Track my schedule if you must, but stop staging these pathetic encounters. You're terrifying Lenora."