Without a Trace

Sitting in the passenger seat of the roaring red Lamborghini, Maya raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, her gaze devoid of any lingering emotion. She looked at her best friend and replied smoothly to the lingering question. "Since I called you, it means I've already made up my mind."

Driving the luxurious car, Sienna let out a triumphant chuckle, thrilled that Maya was finally kicking the worthless Desmond to the curb. "It's about time," Sienna declared fiercely, tightening her grip on the leather steering wheel. "You went through all that arduous trouble of healing his severely injured leg, only for the scumbag to remain deeply entangled with your twin sister abroad. Forget about him and shift all your focus toward becoming a billionaire!"

Sienna's intense frustration translated directly to a heavy foot on the gas pedal, making the Lamborghini surge forward aggressively down the highway. The sudden acceleration pressed them back against the seats. Maya grabbed the door handle, offering a teasing, gentle warning. "Hey, watch the road. Don't get me killed right after I've finally managed to escape the suffocating chains of my marriage."

Sienna eased off the accelerator, a small smile returning to her lips as she navigated through the traffic. She gently probed, "So, what are you planning to do next?"

"I need a mental break first," Maya admitted, resting her head against the headrest with a quiet sigh. "How is the company doing recently?"

For three exhaustive years, she had poured every ounce of her attention, energy, and care into nursing Desmond. She had abandoned her own clothing company, Vellora Group, leaving its operations to its shareholders. She figured as long as they followed her initial business plans, things wouldn't go too wrong in her absence.

Hearing this, Sienna let out a heavy, troubled sigh. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened again, heavily implying that the company was currently facing severe internal issues. "Things are quite messy. We should probably sit down and discuss..."

However, Maya simply lacked the emotional and physical energy to intervene in corporate warfare just yet. Her mind was too cluttered to deal with business politics. "Not right now. Just drop me off at the airport."

"The airport?" Sienna glanced over in surprise, her eyes widening behind her dark sunglasses. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not sure yet," Maya revealed her spontaneous plan. "I'll pick a random destination straight from the departure board when I get inside." She looked out the window at the passing city skyline, feeling the weight of the last three years pressing down on her shoulders. "Just send my lone suitcase to the Eastridge villa. I don't want to carry it with me."

"Alright," Sienna agreed, honoring her friend's need for space. "How long will you be gone?"

"I'll return in a month or so," Maya promised. She stared blankly ahead, her indifferent eyes effectively masking the deep, bone-weary exhaustion settling over her.

A full month flew by in silence.

Over at the Oakhaven branch of the mighty Radcliff Group, Desmond was engrossed in a high-stakes business meeting. He was in the middle of discussing the subsidiary's development direction for the next quarter when he was suddenly interrupted by a phone call. Checking the caller ID on his vibrating phone, he saw it was his overbearing mother, Miriam.

Desmond paused the presentation, looking up at his waiting executives. "Let's take a five-minute break."

Stepping out of the conference room and into the quiet hallway, he answered the call. Miriam's voice dripped with her usual undisguised disdain for her daughter-in-law.

"Desmond, I've been to the villa several times looking for Maya, but she's never home," she complained bitterly, the sharp sound echoing through the phone speaker. "Did you two have a fight? Is she deliberately giving me the cold shoulder?"

Desmond pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache forming. "What do you need from her?"

Miriam stressed that the situation was urgent. "Your grandmother's birthday is approaching! I desperately need Maya to pick out a suitable birthday gift for your grandmother. Who would have thought she would avoid me so deliberately?" Miriam paused, loudly lamenting once again, "If only you had married Audrey back then..."

Desmond cut his mother's complaining off with an indifferent promise, unwilling to hear Audrey's name dragged into this right now. "Fine. I'll handle the gift situation myself. I will call her and get back to you." He abruptly hung up the phone before she could say another word.

As he set the device down, a sudden realization hit him, causing his brows to furrow deeply. He had been so swamped with his relentless work schedule in Oakhaven that he hadn't noticed an entire month had passed. A whole month without Maya reaching out to beg for forgiveness or apologize.

Assuming she was still throwing a childish tantrum over their last argument, he dialed her phone number, expecting her to answer immediately and end this standoff.

Instead, he was met with dead silence. The call didn't go through at all.

Maya had blocked him.

His handsome face darkened instantly, a storm brewing in his eyes. He strode back into the meeting room, ignoring the executives, and looked straight at his loyal assistant. "Nolan. Call Maya's number."

"Yes, sir." Nolan dialed immediately, but lowered his phone moments later, his expression tense. "Sir, she isn't answering."

When Nolan's attempt was also met with the same dead end, Desmond issued a cold instruction, his voice dropping an octave. "Fine. I'll continue the meeting. You immediately contact the Radcliff villa's property management."

An agonizing hour later, the business meeting finally concluded. As Desmond walked out of the room, Nolan approached his boss with extreme caution.

"Sir," Nolan began, holding his tablet tightly, "the villa's property management said that the day after you left for your business trip, Ms. Monroe left with her luggage."

Because Desmond and Maya's marriage was kept a strict secret from the public, Nolan had always professionally referred to Maya as 'Ms. Monroe'. In the past three years, this title had never bothered Desmond in the slightest.

But now, hearing it triggered a strange, inexplicable flicker of intense annoyance within him. The formality felt jarring and wrong.

Suppressing this unfamiliar feeling deep inside his chest, he coldly issued a new command. "Find out where she is now and book the earliest flight for us to return."

Nolan complied with a crisp, "Yes, sir." He tapped a few buttons on his tablet before looking up, asking a lingering question. "Is Ms. Audrey Monroe returning with us?"