LOGINThe sudden, brutal pressure in my lungs didn't just snap back to normal. My chest felt like it was trapped in a heavy, rusted iron cage, every shallow gasp of air burning straight down my windpipe like swallowing broken glass.My vision flickered in heavy, dark pulses of red static. The floor was still slanting sideways under my sneakers, and the metallic taste of copper filled my mouth as blood kept trickling down my top lip, dripping off my chin onto the front of my t-shirt.Before I could even process what was happening, he slid one arm under my knees and the other around my back, lifting me right out of my chair in one fluid, violent motion. My head fell back against his shoulder, my fingers weakly digging into the dark fabric of his suit jacket just to keep the room from spinning out of control."Cyrus…" the woman started, stepping back in total shock, her expensive heels clicking sharply against the floor."Get out of the way, Victoria," Cyrus growled, his voice stripped of ever
I showed up to the executive floor at eight-fifteen in my usual outfit, a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt, white sneakers, and my hair thrown into a loose, messy bun held together by a scrunchie. I carried my bag, set my plastic water bottle on the desk, and pulled up my blank spreadsheets.Seeing Cyrus step into that SUV last night with a woman who looked like she stepped off a runway hadn't broken my heart. It had just cleared my head. It was a cold, necessary reality check. This whole universe was a rigged story engine, Cyrus Crest was a walking dark-romance archetype, and my singular goal was to break the plot, survive the tropes, and find a way back to my real life.I kicked my sneakers off under the partition wall, pulled my feet up onto the base of my chair, and started logging routine expense reports like an actual employee.Cyrus came out of his office three separate times before eleven o'clock.He didn't bring me memos to edit. He didn't ask for a calendar update. He ju
By five o'clock, the 40th floor was completely dead. The rest of the staff had packed up their bags and slipped out early, leaving only the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the bright fluorescent lights above my desk.I finished logging the last batch of bogus travel expenses, slammed my laptop shut, and tossed my pen into my bag. I stood up, stretched my arms over my head, and tossed my bag over my shoulder.I walked past the wall of the office and peeked my head through the cracked door. Cyrus was sitting behind his wide desk, reviewing a stack of legal contracts with a heavy pen in his hand. He had his suit jacket off, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and a dark, focused look on his face."Shadow Daddy, I'm out," I said casually, resting my hand against the doorframe.Cyrus paused, his pen hovering an inch above the paper. He slowly raised his head, his eyes fixing on me through the glass. He looked at my messy bun, my plain gray t-shirt, and my bag, letting out a quiet,
The two-hour mark hit down to the second.CLACK-CHUNK.The heavy steel security doors at the end of the aisle unlatched with a loud pneumatic hiss. Overhead, the main breakers sputtered back to life, flooding Sub-Basement B4 with harsh, buzzing fluorescent light that made me squint.I didn't move immediately. I stayed stretched out on the concrete floor, my head still resting on Cyrus's legs like a makeshift couch cushion, shielding my eyes with my arm."Power's back," I said, my voice muffled against my elbow. "Told you it'd be two hours."Cyrus sat beside me, completely motionless. His legs were still stiff as iron, though his hands had shifted slightly to rest on the floor on either side of my shoulders. He let out a slow, steady breath that rattled quietly in his chest, looking down at me through the bright white light."Erin," he said, his tone dry, flat, and thoroughly exhausted. "Get off my legs.""Alright, alright," I grumbled, pushing myself up onto my elbows.I sat up, stret
The freight elevator clunked to a heavy stop at Sub-Basement B4. The doors slid back with a rusty, metallic screech, opening into a massive, concrete cavern filled with rows of towering metal shelving, dusty cardboard boxes, and old wooden crates. It smelled like damp concrete, static electricity, and fifty years of forgotten paper."The files should be in aisle four," Cyrus said, stepping past me over the threshold. His shoes clicked against the bare floor, echoing off the high, unfinished ceiling.I stepped out right behind him, keeping my hands shoved into the pockets of my faded jeans. I glanced around at the endless rows of grey shelves. "Looks cozy. Really great place to store thirty-year-old corporate secrets."Before Cyrus could answer, a loud, mechanical THUNK echoed from the far wall.The single flickering fluorescent tube overhead instantly killed out. Pitch-black darkness slammed down over the entire sub-basement like a heavy blanket. A second later, the heavy steel securi
I sat down in the chair at my desk, pulled my legs up, and adjusted my messy bun. I opened a blank spreadsheet on my computer, kicked my feet up and started typing in dummy data just to look busy.To Cyrus,I was unpredictable, didn't wear suit pants, and apparently possessed the terrifying ability to turn into a tragic soap opera actress on a dime. Footsteps echoed down the carpeted hallway.Cyrus walked out of his office and stopped right in front of my desk. He stood there for a long, silent moment, his hands resting on the edge of my partition wall. He looked down at my faded jeans, my plain t-shirt, and then up at my face.He just stared at me like he was looking at a total stranger who had somehow single-handedly dismantled his entire family dynamic in four minutes flat."How..." he started, stopping himself almost instantly. He cleared his throat, taking a slow breath. "How did you know he would react that way?""Crest, guys like your dad operate on a script," I said, taking a s







