When His Mistress Took Everything I Ever Loved

The London flight was in three days. Three days to pack up our life in Brooklyn and start anew across the Atlantic. I pulled out my old passport from the drawer where I kept important documents, but it wasn't there.

"Looking for something?" Cassian asked, adjusting his tie as he prepared for another "business dinner."

"My passport," I replied, rifling through the folder again. "It should be right here."

He frowned. "Maybe you moved it when you were cleaning."

"I always keep it here," I insisted, panic rising in my chest. "I haven't touched it since we got back from that weekend trip to Vermont last year."

I tore through the apartment, upending drawers and emptying cabinets. The passport had to be somewhere. Without it, I couldn't leave for London—couldn't follow Cassian into this new life he was building.

"Selena, calm down," he said, watching me from the doorway of our bedroom. "We'll get you a new one if you can't find it."

"A new one? The embassy appointment alone would take weeks!"

He checked his watch. "I have to go. Keep looking. I'm sure it'll turn up."

After he left, I continued my frantic search. The apartment was small—where could it possibly be? I'd checked every drawer, every folder, every pocket of every jacket.

Except his.

I hesitated before opening Cassian's dresser drawer. We'd always respected each other's privacy, but desperation pushed me forward. The drawer was neatly organized—his socks rolled precisely, his underwear folded in squares.

My hands trembled as I lifted a stack of papers in the back corner. There, beneath a folder of contracts, lay my passport.

Relief flooded through me—until I noticed what was beside it.

A small velvet box.

I shouldn't look. I knew I shouldn't.

I opened it anyway.

Inside was a diamond necklace—delicate platinum chain supporting a pendant that caught the afternoon light streaming through our window. It was beautiful. Elegant. Expensive.

And completely unlike anything Cassian would buy for me.

Tucked beside it was a small card with elegant script: "For Kennedy—To celebrate our new beginning. C"

The room tilted. I sank to the floor, the necklace box heavy in my palm.

Our new beginning.

Not mine and Cassian's. His and Kennedy's.

I reached for my phone with shaking hands. Who could I call? Who would understand what this meant?

Jasper answered on the second ring.

"Selena?" His voice was cautious. "What's wrong?"

"He's—" My voice broke. "I found—"

"Slow down," he said gently. "What happened?"

I couldn't form the words. How could I explain that the man I'd loved for a decade was planning a future with someone else? That every promise about London had been a lie?

"Jasper," I finally managed. "I need you."

Twenty minutes later, his car pulled up outside our building. I sat on the stoop, the velvet box clutched in my hand.

He took one look at my face and opened his arms. I collapsed against his chest, sobbing.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into my hair. "I'm so damn sorry, Selena."

"He's leaving me," I whispered. "Not today. Not tomorrow. But he's already gone."

Jasper pulled back, his eyes fierce with an emotion I couldn't name. "I can't just hold you while you cry. Not this time."

"What do you mean?"

"There's something you need to see." He helped me to my feet. "Something I should have shown you weeks ago."

"I don't understand."

"Get in the car, Selena."

I hesitated. "Where are we going?"

"To Mount Sinai Hospital."

"Cassian's not there. He's at a business dinner."

Jasper's smile was bitter. "Is he?"

The drive was silent except for the wipers slashing through the light rain that had begun to fall. Jasper's knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"Why are we going to a hospital?" I finally asked.

"Cassian's been 'working late' there three nights this week." Jasper's voice was carefully neutral. "I thought you should know what kind of work he's really doing."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Jasper, what aren't you telling me?"

He met my eyes in the rearview mirror. "The truth, Selena. The truth you've been too afraid to face."

As we pulled up to the hospital entrance, I saw Cassian's car in the parking lot. My stomach lurched.

"He told me he was meeting investors tonight," I whispered.

Jasper cut the engine. "He lied."

Rain pattered against the windshield as I stared at the hospital doors. Somewhere inside was the man I thought I knew—the man I'd planned to spend my life with.

"What am I supposed to do now?" I asked, my voice small in the darkness.

Jasper's hand found mine across the console. "You're going to stop running from the truth."

He squeezed my fingers gently. "Are you ready?"

I wasn't. But I nodded anyway.