Jake's POVThe call with Selena ended, and I straightened as Ms. Cassie joined me at the table. She flashed a sweet, flirtatious smile before settling into her seat and adjusting her short skirt."Hello, Mr. Marino," she began, her smile unwavering. "May I call you Jake?""I'd appreciate it if you addressed me as Mr. Marino. This is a business meeting," I clarified, establishing a professional boundary."You're late," she observed."I needed to ensure I was presentable for our meeting," I replied evenly.She frowned playfully. "This isn't a date?""Whatever you say," I conceded, wanting to keep the focus on business. "Can we order now? I'm famished."She signaled for a waiter and placed her order. I followed suit. Once we were alone again, she sighed contentedly, leaning back in her chair."Ready to discuss business?" I inquired."Not quite," she countered, suggesting we finish our meal first. She took a sip of the red wine the waiter had poured before leaving. The lingering effect of

Jake's POVShe clearly wasn't expecting me. Shock painted her face as she opened the apartment door. "Well, surprise," I announced, stopping the door before it slammed shut and pushing my way in as she retreated.Fear flickered in her eyes as she backed away. Her gaze darted around the room, searching for an escape, but there was nowhere to run with me in the same space. "What the hell, Selena!" I shouted, raising my hand in frustration.She must have misinterpreted the gesture because she flinched, dropping to the floor and covering her face. What the hell? Did she think I was going to hit her? Disgust churned in my stomach.Taking two steps back, I watched her tremble. Goodness, I hadn't even touched her, and I never would. When her shaking subsided, she peeked up and saw the distance I'd put between us. Her face was flushed, tears glistening in her silver eyes.Fake tears wouldn't work on me. I wouldn't be manipulated. Slowly, she rose to her feet, her posture a little stiff. Somet

Hilary's POVI took Selena's car to the address she gave me earlier. Reporters milled around outside, but I was a nobody to them. I parked the car, got out, and walked freely past them to the elevator, pressing the button for the penthouse.Riding up was strange. I'd never been to a penthouse before. Reaching my destination, I entered the password and stepped inside. My jaw dropped in amazement. Twirling around, I tried to take it all in at once.The place was spotless, almost all surfaces gleaming glass. Following Selena's instructions, I found her room. Opening the door, I groaned. The apartment was immaculate, but Selena's room was a different story. Clothes littered the floor and the bed remained unmade.I started by picking up clothes, putting them away, making the bed, and cleaning the floor. Then, I grabbed one of her suitcases and began packing: clothes, toiletries, whatever I could find. I searched for important documents, collecting her passport, jewelry box, and anything els

Jake's POVUnable to concentrate on anything business-related, I kept Jeff working overtime. He pulled articles, fielded reporters with the help of security, yet Selena hadn't contacted me.What was she waiting for? I had offered a press conference to settle things, but they wanted both of us present. Unfortunately, my wife was currently in hiding.Every call to her went unanswered, her phone perpetually off."Here," Jeff said, placing a piece of paper on my desk. I had requested Selena's neighbor's contact information. I quickly dialed the number.On the third ring, a woman answered, mid-conversation with someone in the background."Hello?" I asked, unsure if the call had connected."Hello, Hillary speaking… Max, put that down!" She pulled the phone away from someone, likely her son. "This is Jake Marino," I introduced myself."What? How can I help you?" she finally focused on the call."I haven't been able to reach Selena. Have you seen her by any chance?""Have you checked her apar

Jake's POVWalking into the restaurant, I saw Selena's friend, presumably waiting for me. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through my head. My mother was calling, demanding to speak with Selena. The press was waiting for her. And here I was, hoping this friend could shed light on Selena's whereabouts.I joined her at the table. She offered a curt nod as I sat down, already having ordered a drink. She took a long sip and settled back in her chair. "So, here we are," she said. "Why were you blowing up my phone? I won't bother asking how you got my number.""Selena," I uttered urgently."Where is she?" Hillary countered, though logically, the question should have been coming from me."You came for her things that night, and now she's vanished," I accused.Hillary shrugged her narrow shoulders. "She asked me to help her get her things, and I did. But I'm not responsible for where she is. Selena's an independent lady, with a mind of her own." She opened her purse, retrieved a small, white fol