You Had Me, You Lost Me, You'll Never Find Me novel Chapter 59

In July, Penelope officially resigned from her previous talent agency and signed on to Sylvia's company, stepping in as her new manager.

Penelope was a mastermind at PR and marketing. Since Sylvia had an unreleased drama in the pipeline, Penelope planned to capitalize on the momentum.

She asked Sylvia to post a promotional update on social media and coordinated the strategic release of high-quality behind-the-scenes footage to hook the fans.

Sylvia usually stuck to her private secondary account. When she tried to log into her verified public profile, she realized it wasn't linked to her current phone number.

Her old backup phone was still sitting in Ashton's penthouse.

Shortly after the night of the gala, Sylvia had someone deliver her medical reports to him, and since then, they hadn't spoken a single word to each other.

Not wanting to risk running into Ashton, Sylvia called Finley first. Once she confirmed Ashton wasn't home, she borrowed the spare key from him to quickly grab her things.

The penthouse looked exactly as she remembered, but the little vibrant plants she had lovingly nurtured and the quirky decorative trinkets she had bought were completely gone. The space felt stripped, cavernous, and utterly devoid of life—the undeniable domain of a single billionaire.

Sylvia knew that the housekeeper and the cleaners would never have touched those things without Ashton's explicit orders.

And they had been broken up for over three months now; it was perfectly normal for him to erase her presence.

Sylvia just wanted to grab her phone and get the hell out.

She tried to remember the last time she had seen the backup phone. It was right after one of their massive fights.

That night, Sylvia had attended a cast and crew dinner and came home a little late. Ashton had come to pick her up, his face dark with fury.

As Sylvia waved goodbye to the crew, he barely restrained his temper, a sharp crease already forming between his brows.

He was blatantly referring to the actor who had caught her arm.

Sylvia hadn't even thought twice about it, feeling his words were viciously uncalled for.

They slept in the same bed that night, both staring at their respective phones, radiating hostility and ignoring each other completely.

After wrapping up that drama, Sylvia had gone out auditioning for new roles. Though Ashton came home every single night, he treated her like she was invisible. They ate, showered, and slept in the same space, acting like total strangers.

That suffocating silence lasted for over half a month, and Sylvia had seriously considered ending things multiple times.

But then, one night, they had made up.

Ashton had cracked first. In the dead of night, he hauled her into his chest, calling her "Sylv." His predatory gaze was completely clouded with lust, his voice rough and incredibly low. "Are you still mad at me, baby?"