Gilber

d me like confetti at a funeral. The stack of hundred-dollar bills Jace had left on the dresser was

off from the building's rooftop helipad. One of the maids, a

a weekend in the Hamptons,

a masochistic impulse driving me to look. The society pages were already buzzing. Jace had posted a photo on his private Instagr

wall and fell silent. The word echoed in my head. Mine. He had once said that to me, whispered it a

love hadn't faded; it had been transferred. I was a property he ha

entine's helicopter had vanished from radar somewhere off the coast of Montauk. A storm h

hroat when his head of security delivered the news. He shattered the cryst

dispatching a private fleet of boats and helicopters to scour the coastline.

ven and haunted, standing on a windswept cliff, staring out at the turbulent sea. He even made a pilgrimage to St. Patrick's Cathedral, the place where we were married, and wa

al. This twisted, obsessive performance was being lauded as the height of romance. The world was applauding the very man who h

ly as she had vanish

tish-looking men, their faces hard and their suits ill-fitting. They were followed by a third man, slic

n shore." He shoved Fallon forward, and she crumpled to the floor. "Seems your girl here owes my

ce. "You have one hour to make the transfer. Or we t

the building had been compromised. They were outgunned. His eyes dar

lan so monstrous, so utterly devoid of humanity,

t of a husband or even a man. It was th

ly calm. "Get the keys to the Bentley