Dimitri takes a swing of his vodka. He resents vodka, he's more of a scotch and henessy type of guy. Right now though, he'll take whatever can get him drunk the fastest. He's perched on a barstool in the darkness of his kitchen, a new contract spiralled on the marble and he's hardly paying attention to it.

He's neglected everything: he doesn't remember his co-workers' faces and Anwar and Aisha are handling everything at Asterio Industries. Dimitri can't bring himself to care enough. He doesn't know how exactly a few days turned into three months, but he's so broken.

All his surroundings are a muted hazy array – so sluggishly distant and they flash by in monochromatic pulses. He has the need to vomit, to cry, to bare his heart out – or maybe thread his hand into his rib cage and pluck it out. Anything to stop this sordid feeling from growing.

He needs to talk to her. He wants to talk to her.

He shifts his phone out of his pocket and shoots another text. The problem is she never replies.

You're incredibly selfish. So fucking selfish. You just left without a clue or warning. Did you even once stop to consider Abuela? Do you still think of her? I couldn't care less about myself but her? She's started attending Church everyday and cries every night. My visits rarely bring her any comfort because whenever she stares at me, she only thinks of you. I'm angry at you.

Okay, fine. I'm lying, I'm not angry at you. I just miss you and I want you back with me. I'm sorry for ever yelling and screaming the way I did that night. You were so frightened and I regretted it instantly. Baby, I'm so sorry. Please come back. Let's make this work.

Bella?

Tears leak onto the screen, his vision is a blurry array. So fucking useless and pathetic. Dimitri was never this pathetic. Bella's been missing for three months. A whole damn three months have flown by and Bella is nowhere to be found. She's vanished into thin air with no substance or trace. Everyday after that has been living torture.

He's got the money, the cars and the fucking company. He's got everything he wanted but he's absolutely nothing without her. The descent to the top was euphoric but it's so lonely up here. He doesn't wish it on his worst enemy.

Bella's gone but she's everywhere.

Some nights in bed, he can still smell her perfume and hear the curves of her melodic laughter rolling off her back. Other days, he tugs into her bedroom and collapses underneath the defeating silence for hours on end. She slept with her head buried underneath the pillow when alone and her arms twined around his torso when they were together.

She had a habit of muttering to herself in Spanish when irritated, she sung ballads and unconsciously moved her hips to the beat when cooking and her anger would settle on her brows. One day, he had casually mentioned it to her whilst teasing and she glared at him with displeasure and so much passion. Dimitri couldn't bite back the grin.

There's one less champagne flute in his cupboard from when she accidentally dropped it on the white carpet. The champagne stain never left and eventually, Dimitri replaced it with a Pursian rug to add a splash of colour to the Penthouse. The difference is, Dimitri hasn't replaced the missing flute to his collection. It's a constant reminder - a terrible one.

Pre-Bella, Dimitri was already a neat freak but having a woman roaming around his penthouse? Who was oftentimes wearing his shirt or as he liked best - naked. The place seems cut from architectural design.

His interior was sparkled with black and dull colours like grey and white, but with Bella around. It almost added a femine touch to his bachelor pad. The sofa is now decorated with pink fluffy pillows, fuzzy blankets and strands of her brown hair. The penthouse smells sweeter from all the different candles and diffusers. To his surprise, he didn't mind it. Dimitri doesn't let Mrs Barton into Bella's bedroom, afraid she might clean away the presence of her completely.

Devastating, isn't it? Suddenly, Dimitri's whole existence is defined and placed in the hands of one singular person. One person who he was never meant to fall in love with, yet he's broken every rule and non-disclosure agreement between them. He's fallen, recklessly so. The empty chair beside him taunts him, the bedroom down the hall taunts him, the fucking wedding canvas' on the wall taunt him. He feels like ripping them to shreds but that's the only place he can stare at her.

It's so hard not being able to talk to her, not being able to wrap his arms around the band of her waist and inhale her scent. Dimitri's died a little.

It's four in the morning and because Dimitri is a terrible best friend, he rings Anwar without a second thought. He answers on the third ring, his sleep-strung voice distant. Dimitri can almost imagine him frowning at the caller ID.

"Quinn. We haven't spoken to her." Dimitri stutters, his mind racing in different directions.

Anwar goes silent on the line before he's muttering a sleepy I'll be back. There's footsteps and the sound of a door opening before Anwar finally asks, "Are you drunk?"

"Not yet. I might be soon."

There's a deafening pause, before Anwar sighs a lengthy exhale. He can almost imagine Anwar dragging his hand over his face, so frustrated with his nonsense rambling. "D, listen to me." his voice pulls into a softer baritone, gentle and speaking to Dimitri as if he's a wounded animal.

"Maybe there's a reason for this. Maybe Bella doesn't want you to find her. Maybe this is all over and you need to move on. It's been three months already and she's fallen off the face of the earth. What makes you think she's coming back?"

Dimitri breaks and shatters and goes numb. Bella doesn't need Dimitri. Dimitri needs her.

"I am not asking you much. I just want you back and better, functioning like a normal human-being. You can take all the time you need and maybe you should get out of the house, come back to the office. It might help distract you."

"If you drive me to her house right now, I'll come back to work tomorrow. Do we have a deal?" Anwar is silent. "I'll pattern up fast. No more crying, no more sobbing. And you're right Anwar, I need to bury myself in work and forget her."

Anwar is right, Dimitri thinks. He needs to move on, Bella isn't coming back and it's time he accepts it. How could he cry for a woman that was never meant for him in the first place? A change of scenery is all he needs, the office will be a giant distraction and this nonsense Bella ache will simply drift by. Dimitri explains to himself that this is a phase.

"Okay, fine I'm driving over right now. If it makes you feel better, we'll go speak to Quinn."

The drive is long and hazy. Anwar doesn't speak a word to him and they roll out, climb the three flights of stairs and knock on Quinn's door. He remembers briefly dropping by with Bella to deliver some items to her. She merely gave him the cold shoulder and didn't acknowledge Dimitri much. She's always had some sort of vendetta against him, and Dimitri can't figure out why.

He knocks on the door. He rings the bell, three times. It's 4 AM in the morning, she won't be awake. He's holding his breath then the lights flicker on and the door opens to a scowling Quinn, staring at the two men in sheer malice. Who in their right minds wakes up a person at 4 AM?

She's wearing a robe, her face bare with no makeup and her hair covered with a silk scarf. "Hi, Quinn. We apologise for the awkward hour but we have a few questions." Anwar chips into the staring contest that Dimitri and her are having.

"Come inside," she states, her tone unwelcoming but compliant. They both usher themselves in, stand awkwardly inside Quinn's living room while Quinn glares at them. "Now, who the fuck wakes a person up at 4 AM?"

"We're sorry. I know this isn't ideal but–"

Quinn cuts off Anwar harshly, "Yes. It hasn't been ideal since Bella's gone missing." Ah, there is it. The fuckening. Quinn's jab sets of an red alarm in Dimitri's system and she's scowling at her now.

"How do I know it wasn't you who helped her escape? It's a little funny isn't it? How do I know you're not the whistleblower? You knew all along."

Quinn gives him a flippant gaze, her left eye twitching. "You're the reason my best friend is missing so don't come up here in my grill accusing me!" They hold the deathly heated eye contact "Don't you think if I had known where she was, I too would have ran with her?"

Dimitri sighs a breath. At this rate, they're getting nowhere. Quinn slugs her arms over her chest and pops a breath. "She was damn right for leaving your pathetic ass. What more did you have to offer, your money and wack sex? Save it." Dimitri's at loss for words. He wasn't aware anyone knew they were getting dirty behind the scenes.

"She was blinded to an agreement with me. I can take Bella to court." He presses on, his teeth clamped together. He needs answers.

Quinn scowls at Dimitri. She doesn't like his boastful entitlement one bit. "It was you who made her sign the the stupid paperwork and you who decide to lure her in with payment. She was tight on money and how do I know you used that against her?"

Dimitri's eyebrows pulled together, "She was my wife." He declares. He just wants her back. He's fallen in love with the woman. God, this is some sort of heinous prank.

"Fake wife!" Dimitri flinches and Anwar's got his lips pressed together. The temperature is vibrantly heated in Quinn's tiny flat.

He rolls his sleeves up and rubs his fingers to his temple. "All because of the stupid brown evenlope," He mutters to himself. If Bella had just shown a little more care, a little more fucking responsibility this would have never happened.

"What? Brown envelope..." Quinn turns away from them, her eyes set into the distance.

Dimitri and Anwar stare at her. "Oh my god! Oh shit! Oh, he smiled at me. I thought– I thought it was his! It was on the coffee table and he read it before slipping it into his coat."

"What?!" Dimitri and Anwar say simultaneously.

Quinn panics, her hands flapping around. "Bella called us over and he was acting so weird afterwards. I didn't even realise it and- Bella didn't lose it! It was stolen from her."

Dimitri steps closer, "WHO!"

"It's Jeremiah."

"Son of a bitch!"

The very next day. Dimitri takes a day off to sleep off everything out of his system. He's finally ready to get his shit back together. So he shaves, showers, lathers himself in cologne. His suit is his armour and with the fix of his dark blue tie, he's ready to clean his act up.

Exactly at 9 on the dot, Dimitri is stepping into the office and everyone is hustling about astounded and hailing that the boss has decided to join the office again.

Dimitri passes a timid gaze to Anwar. "Why is everyone standing around like it? It wasn't this busy since we made Mayfair the HQ,"

"It's because you're finally back. Everyone feels like they've got some morale back. You're the glue to this place and to be honest, I was getting tired of playing the asshole and screaming at everyone because they were so demotivated." A laugh rumbles from Dimitri's throat. A proper genuine laugh that has managed to slip out after three months.

"You still are an asshole." He throws an insult to Anwar, pressing on the elevator button. They take the elevator up to his office and Aisha greets them both.

"Welcome back boss!"

He gives her a polite smile. Anwar was indeed right. It's only been two minutes and he's feeling like himself again. "It's been so long I've forgotten what I need to do first. Clear inbox then meeting with shareholders?"

"Don't worry about all that. I've got that handled, you have a meeting with the marketing team in boardroom 3."

He mutters a quick thanks and starts darting down with Anwar. There was something else Dimitri needed to do. Like punch Jeremiah Spencer across the face. "Anwar? What about Jeremiah Spencer?" he asks over his shoulder. It's a shame Anwar has convinced him to not smash his teeth in.

Anwar pats him on the back and leads him towards the boardroom. "I've got it handled. Right now, you need to get your game face on and listen to the marketing team. Nav will be stopping by the penthouse tonight for an informal visit based on the nature of the situation." He scoffs down the information and does exactly as told. No more sobbing, only work.

He greets everyone in the boardroom and takes the seat at the head of the table as the monetization director begins his presentation which is set up on a projector. He has a little button in his hand and begins plotting passionately. "I'll start by giving Mr Asterio a quick brief on what we've covered so far. As everyone is aware, Asterio Industries has three main headquarters. London, New York and Toronto."

Ah, Toronto. Bella was so displeased about it.

"Our plan was to expand to three more locations. We've chosen these places carefully and with expertly crafted advice for the telecommunications sector. So, Los Angeles, Shanghai and Barcelona. We think–"

"Barcelona?" A memory tugs Dimitri's attention west.

"If you could go any place in the world right now, where would it be?"

"The Maldives. I need a vacation, I'm overworked and overwhelmed. Where would you go?"

"Barcelona – Terressa specifically."

"That's oddly specific, why?"

Bella never finished her sentence because the aftermath that followed blew up in ruins. He wonders why she ever chose that place.

"He was in Terrassa that day, I believe. He was visiting someone,"

He was visiting someone! Terressa! Barcelona... Dimitri screams, "Barcelona!" standing up from his seat. Everyone jumps, staring at him like he's a madman. He's grinning from ear-to ear. The most proud smug grin he can conjure up.

"Sir?" The director asks, his neck beginning to drench in sweat, confusion holding his face.

"Barcelona! Yes! Give this man a raise for his wonderful idea. We'll resume this meeting another day." With that, Dimitri storms out and heads for Aisha.

"D? What the hell?" Anwar shoots after him.

He spots Aisha with her head buried in some paper. "Aisha! I need you to book me the next flight to Barcelona, pronto."

Anwar's shaking his hands frantically, banning Dimitri from stepping out. "No, c'mon. You've only been in the office for twenty-minutes. This is no time for a holiday!" He's pissed off.

Dimitri holds Anwar's shoulders and firmly declares to him. "I know where Bella is!"