Chapter Six

“I… can’t,” Selene whispered, eyes locked on the sink.

“I’ll be back when the private investigator brings you the evidence you need to be strong. See you soon, Selene,” the figure replied.

When she lifted her head, the figure was gone.

Selene stared at her reflection for a long moment, then took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom. She got dressed and walked back into the bedroom. Cole was still asleep, his breaths slow and steady.

She slipped into bed, and he instinctively snuggled close. Her hand twitched, ready to push him away. But she didn’t. Let him have this. It would be the last warmth he'd ever get from her if Damien was right.

She picked up her phone and directly went to her email.

Eileen had sent the contact details. Michael Jobs. That was the private investigator’s name.

Selene wasted no time. She sent out instructions, files, and every suspicion she had. She wasn’t going to wait anymore.

It wasn’t until past 2 a.m. that she finally put her phone down. Cole had curled even closer, his arm draped over her waist like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t shattered her.

She looked at him for a long, quiet second, then inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Sleep found her.

She had no nightmares.

The bedside alarm clock rang at 7 a.m., Cole reached out and turned it off, then leaned toward her.

“Wake up, love. You’ve got to go to the office,” he murmured, voice still drowsy.

Selene blinked her eyes open and slowly sat up.

“Good morning, my love,” Cole said, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Revulsion. Nothing but revulsion. Pure and cold.

“Good morning… love,” she replied, voice soft. Then, with a small smile she added, “And thank you… for yesterday.”

Cole let out a soft chuckle as he looked at her, then stood up from the bed.

“Come on, chop chop, we’ve got places to be. I’ve got golf with the guys today, remember?”

“Will you be there all day?” Selene asked casually, rising from the bed.

“Of course. That’s how it always is,” he replied, brushing it off with a grin.

They walked into the bathroom together. Selene used to enjoy these little moments—brushing side by side, sharing their morning routine. Now, every corner of their room, every mirror and towel rack, felt heavy with betrayal. The memories made her feel sick.

By the time they went downstairs, Maria, the house help, was setting down the last of the breakfast dishes. They exchanged greetings, and Cole and Selene sat down to eat. Cole finished quickly and disappeared for a shower.

A few minutes later, he returned dressed in his golf outfit, swinging his kit bag over his shoulder.

“I’m heading off, dear,” he said, appearing at the dining room entrance.

“Hmm. Have fun,” Selene replied, sipping her orange juice.

“I love you,” he added, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

Selene fought to keep her face steady. “I love you too,” she said, barely.

She watched him walk away, and when the sound of the front door closing got to her ear, she turned to Maria.

“Maria, can you get me my phone from upstairs? Quickly.”

Maria nodded and hurried off. Within moments, she was back, handing over the phone.

Selene dialed a number without hesitation.

The call connected instantly.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I already started following him. I won’t lose him. I’ve been doing this for nine years,” Michael Jobs said on the other end.

“Alright. Make sure you send me everything.”

“Of course.”

Selene ended the call, took a long breath, and stood up. She had to take her medications. It was time to get ready for work.

Selene’s company, House of Ward, was quickly on its way to becoming a billion-dollar empire. It was already valued at around $980 million and made up of five different but connected businesses, all created by her.

First was Ward & Co. Interiors, a luxury interior design company known for its modern and stylish work. It had a long list of famous clients, including celebrities, politicians, and elite families. The company quickly became known for its class and exclusiveness.

Next was Ward Strategies, a small PR and image company. With a reputation for turning even the most troubled public figures into success stories, many saw it as the secret tool for anyone who wanted to take back control of their story.

Then there was Selene Co., a wellness brand that sold high-quality skincare, gave lifestyle coaching, held motivational events, and had a state-of-the-art fitness center.

Not far behind was S. Ward Gallery, an art space and creative agency full of new ideas. It showed modern art, held unique shows, and worked with both new and well-known artists. It wasn’t just a place to hang art. It helped artists grow and try new things.

And last was Slice of Heaven, a popular bakery and dessert spot known for its rich treats and calm, simple style. It was the sweetest part of her business.

While House of Ward was her main work, Selene also looked after her late parents’ company, The W’s. It had been in the family long before she was born and was now worth $780 billion. The W’s was a huge company that worked in many fields, from finance to technology. Selene didn’t build it, but she respected it, protected it, and ran it with care.

Her life was far from normal. She wasn’t just rich. She had both inherited and built powerful businesses. And she was only getting started.

Work didn’t give her a second to breathe once she got to the office.

Eileen had been right. There was too much to do. She had pushed most of her tasks to today because of the anniversary party, and now, everything was crashing down on her at once. Meetings had overlapped, emails and documents were piling, calls bled into paperwork, and there were so many things screaming for her attention that she barely had time to breathe.

It wasn’t until four in the afternoon that she managed to grab a quick lunch, and even then, it was cut short when another issue landed on her desk. The issue of the upcoming art exhibition.

Work consumed her until past seven.

She was still buried in documents, Eileen seated across from her, when her phone began to ring. Selene didn’t recognize the number at first, but as soon as she answered, the voice on the other end made her spine go stiff.

“Ma’am, I’m done for the day,” the voice said as soon as the line connected. “I’ve got the pictures ready. Would you like me to send them through email, or would you prefer I present them directly? I’m outside your company.”

It was Michael Jobs.

Selene’s breath caught slightly. Her fingers gripped the phone tighter.

“I’ll send Eileen to get you,” she said quickly and hung up.

Once the call ended, she slowly raised her head to look at Eileen across from her.

“Michael’s downstairs,” she said, her tone quiet.

Eileen gave a small nod. “I’ll go bring him up,” she replied and left the office.

Once the door shut behind her, the room felt like it got smaller. Hotter. She tried to keep her eyes on the file in front of her, but it wasn’t working. Her mind kept spiraling. Her fingers were shaking.

She snapped the folder shut and stood up, pacing slowly around the office as thoughts swirled in her head.

She chewed the side of her thumb and kept glancing at the door.

Seven minutes passed. Maybe more. She couldn’t tell.

Then the door opened.

Eileen stepped in. Behind her, Michael Jobs. He was tall, quiet, carrying a black folder under his arm.

Selene’s eyes dropped to it. Her chest tightened.

This was it.

The moment she’d been bracing for. Whatever Michael had found was about to be laid out in front of her.

The truth—whatever it was—had finally come to meet her.