MARK

In every attempt to catch her, I keep failing for three agonizing months.

I have been chasing a ghost inside my own penthouse. I have employed every trick I knew. I had quietly hired a discreet private investigator to tail her when she left the building.

I had slipped a GPS tracker the size of a coin into the lining of her favorite Prada handbag. I had even managed to mirror her primary cell phone to a burner device I kept locked in my desk drawer at Vance Logistics and every single trail led back to absolutely nothing.

My private investigator sent me photos of Zane sipping green smoothies...