---- Chapter 9 Desmond Day POV: | burst through the front door, shouting her name. "Ariel! Ariel, are you here?" The house was silent. Eerily so. It was clean, impossibly clean. There were no books on the coffee table, no half-finished mug of tea in the kitchen, no comfortable throw blanket draped over the arm of the sofa. There was no sign that Ariel had ever lived here at all. No. She wouldn' t leave me. She couldn' t. After everything, after all the fights and the tears, she always stayed. She loved me. She was my anchor, the one constant in my chaotic world. Even when | pushed her away, she was always there. Maybe she just went on a trip, | thought, a desperate hope flickering within me. A vacation to clear her head. But the thought died as soon as it formed. Ariel hated flying. And her injuries... she wouldn' t have gone anywhere. A darker, more terrifying possibility wormed its way into my brain. The self-harm. The threats. The time she had swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills after a particularly bad fight, her life ---- saved only because | had come home early and found her. She was emotional, volatile. What if this time... what if | had finally pushed her too far? My blood ran cold. | grabbed my keys and sped to the nearest police station. | stumbled up to the front desk, my voice shaking. "| need to report a missing person. My wife, Ariel Payne. ' m .. ' m worried she might have hurt herself." The officer listened patiently, his expression professionally neutral. He took her information, her photo. He made a few calls. | paced the floor, my stomach churning with a guilt so profound it felt like | was going to be sick. This was my fault. All of it. After what felt like an eternity, the officer called me over. "Good news, Mr. Day. Your wife is not in any danger." A wave of relief so intense it made me dizzy washed over me. "Where is she? Is she okay?" The officer consulted his notes. "According to airport customs and immigration records, Ms. Payne departed the country three weeks ago on a private flight. She has since been granted permanent residency in another country." The words didn' t make sense. Permanent residency? Private flight? Ariel didn' t have a passport. ---- "There must be a mistake," | stammered. "She has no family, no one to go to." "The records show she was traveling with a female relative," the officer said, his tone firm. "And the facial recognition scan on the passport is a 99.8% match. There' s no mistake, sir. Your wife has left the country." My mind was reeling. A female relative. Evelena Lindsey. | stumbled out of the police station in a daze. Back at the house, | searched for any clue, any note, anything she might have left behind. The house was a sterile, impersonal shell. She had systematically erased herself. Then, in the study, on the polished surface of my desk, | saw them Two objects, placed neatly side-by-side. The simple silver band | had given her at the courthouse all those years ago. And the signed stock transfer agreement, the ten percent of my company | had offered her as a pathetic consolation prize. She had left it all. The ring that symbolized our beginning, and the money that was supposed to signal our end. She wanted nothing from me. My legs gave out, and | sank into my desk chair. | picked up the ring. It was so small, so light. | remembered the day | gave ---- it to her, the hope and love that had filled that tiny, shabby apartment. | remembered my promise. | will always choose you. Always. | had broken it. Over and over again. My assistant called. His voice was hesitant. "Sir... | have the information you requested. On Ariel' s travel. The flight was chartered by an Evelena Lindsey. Ariel Payne was granted an expedited visa and permanent residency in... in A-Country." Evelena Lindsey. It was all true. She had taken Ariel. And she had destroyed my company. A brilliant, brutal, two-pronged attack. Revenge. A sob, raw and guttural, tore from my chest. | had lost her. For good. | had traded her love, her loyalty, her very soul, for an empire that was now turning to dust. | was a fool. A blind, arrogant fool. "Book me a flight," | rasped into the phone, my voice hoarse with unshed tears. "The first available flight to A-Country. | don't care what it costs." | was going to get her back. | had to.