Chapter 67: Who is she

Carina’s heels clicked against the hardwood floor, each step sharp and deliberate, echoing through the sleek glass-and-steel home office that overlooked the city skyline. The late afternoon light filtered through the blinds, painting gold lines across her desk — across the open file that had kept her mind restless for days.

She stopped pacing long enough to look at the photo again — a grainy but unmistakable image of Pablo, his arm draped casually around a woman she didn’t recognize. The woman’s smile was soft, unguarded. Carina hated that about her — that effortless ease. It was the opposite of everything Carina had become.

“Who the hell are you?” she muttered, tracing the woman’s face with a manicured nail. “And what did he tell you?”

Her heart thudded against her ribs. The past week had been a blur of wine-stained evenings and sleepless nights, her mind looping between rage and disbelief. Pablo — charming, composed, impossible Pablo — had always been a master of control.

But Carina refused to be forgotten.

She slammed the file shut, the papers fluttering across her desk like startled birds. Her reflection in the dark monitor glared back — eyes sharp, mouth set. A mask of poise barely hiding the storm underneath.

She grabbed her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she found the name she needed. Jasper.

“Pick up,” she hissed under her breath as the line rang. Once. Twice.

Finally, his low, smooth voice answered. “Carina. I was just about to call—”

“Don’t,” she snapped. “I don’t want excuses. I want answers.”

A pause. “You got the file, then.”

“I did. And what you sent me isn’t enough.” She turned back toward the photo on her desk, her tone tightening. “Who is she, Jasper? The woman with him. You sent me pictures, but no name, no details. Why?”

“She wasn’t in his usual circles,” Jasper said. “No record of her in his company, no social media overlap. Whoever she is, she’s new.”

“New,” Carina repeated slowly, tasting the word like poison. “Meaning replaceable.”

“Carina…” Jasper’s voice dropped a note, cautious. “You sure you want to go down this road again? You shouldn't be testing him.”

Carina gave a short, humorless laugh. “Done? Oh, Jasper, men like Pablo don’t get to walk away from me. Not after what he took from me choosing that bastard child.” She lowered herself into her chair, her fingers tapping the edge of the desk in thought. “He thinks he’s safe, that he can just disappear into someone else’s arms. But everyone leaves footprints. I just need to know where hers lead.”

Silence hummed on the other end before Jasper sighed. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to follow her,” Carina said, her voice sharp with resolve. “Find out everything you can — her name, her job, where she lives, who she talks to. Every detail. I want her mapped out like a chessboard.”

Jasper hesitated. “And when I do?”

Carina smiled — a slow, dangerous curve of her lips. “Then I’ll decide what move to make next.”

“Understood,” he said quietly.

“Good,” she murmured, ending the call.

The phone dropped onto the desk with a dull clack. For a moment, she sat in silence, watching the city stretch endlessly below her. Somewhere out there, Pablo was laughing, touching that woman’s hand, maybe whispering the same love song he once told her.

Carina’s gaze hardened.

She opened the file once more, sliding the photograph back into view. The woman’s soft smile stared up at her — innocent, unaware and loving.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Carina whispered. “Because soon, I’ll know everything about you.”

And as the sun dipped behind the skyline, the last light of day caught on her diamond ring — the one Pablo had given her — gleaming like a promise she had yet to break.

"I'll get what's mine." Carina crumpled the photo up throwing aside.