ANMELDENThe foyer smells like cat litter and desperation. No one else is in the elevator, not even the echo of footsteps. I key in my floor, ride up in silence, and spend the entire trip listening for the subtle hitch in the motor that tells me when to brace for the landing. There’s a camera in the corner,
Nathan Chambers is already there, in front of the industrial Keurig, thumb pressed to the “strong” button like he’s deadlifting the entire machine. He’s wearing the same navy suit as yesterday, but the shirt is different—pale blue, no tie, collar slightly wilted at the edges. He looks up when I ente
The next interruption is at 6:17, a scheduled conference call with a client in Singapore. I patch in, let the translation software do most of the work, and keep my own contributions to the minimum number of syllables needed to project dominance without revealing fatigue. It’s a game of chicken—who w
The city is still in REM when I unlock the ground floor. My ID badge stutters red, then green, the electric whine of the security gate the only greeting. It’s not quite four, and every molecule of the air is unbreathed, sharp and surgical, clean in a way nothing is after dawn. The lobby is a lightle
He’s so good. Too good. Every fact lines up, every explanation checks out. But I can’t shake the suspicion that I’m missing something—an angle, a tell, a shadow that should be there but isn’t. The animal in me keeps sniffing for the lie, but all I find is the faint echo of yesterday’s perfume, still
I start typing. The work is slow, brutal, a kind of penance. The numbers blur, but I force them into columns, force my attention into the narrowest possible focus. For hours, the only sound is the hum of the computer and the hiss of the HVAC, punctuated by the occasional sigh of a door opening somew
I let them watch me as I unfurl into motion, as I take my time, a tigress stretching beneath a lazy sun. The documents make a soft, lethal sound as they hit the glass, echoing back to fill the silence. These papers are my arsenal, my map to the battlefield I will carve from this sterile room. I ar
The air thrums with ambition, the kind that leaves marks like teeth on skin. I step into the boardroom, a half dozen pairs of eyes pulling toward me as if gravity's force has just shifted. The glass walls loom like a watchful sky, reflections doubling back on themselves, encasing us in a tower of ou
I gather the pieces of myself and leave the office. My own intentions are as fractured as his. I cannot think straight with the scent of him so fresh, so insistent, so much like a promise. The door swings shut behind me, cutting off the warmth and memory of Derek's presence with surgical precision
I stiffen, a snarl forming at the back of my throat, before I manage to smooth it into something more civil, more human. This is not what I expected, not what I am prepared for. I should have known. I should have known he'd come. "Mara," his voice drawls, easy and confident, but I hear the challeng







