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CHAPTER 81 — You Stayed Anyway

مؤلف: ChupiCha
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-08-01 12:07:01

*POV Derby*

A pale blue light flickered across the wall as the glass elevator glided up toward the thirty-fourth floor. I adjusted the lapel of my grey linen blazer, staring at my reflection in the polished doors. No trace of the frantic heartbeat that had kept me awake until dawn after reading that cryptic text message in my car.

I was on time. Eight-fifteen sharp.

When the elevator doors slid open, the high-rise office was already buzzing with the morning routine. Vacuum cleaners whirred i
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  • One Night, Wrong Man   CHAPTER 86 The Habit of Caring

    *POV Derby* "Turn the thermostat up to seventy-two," Jordan’s low voice cut across the conference table before I could even pull my cardigan out of my tote bag. Daniel paused with his hand on the wall control, blinking in confusion. "Sir? The board members usually prefer it cooler for the afternoon strategy sessions." "The room is freezing," Jordan replied bluntly, not even looking up from his iPad as his fingers flicked through the regional budget projections. "Adjust it now." Daniel shot me a brief, knowing glance before pressing the arrow button twice. I kept my face blank, my hands clasped loosely over my notepad, but my skin prickled with a quiet, dangerous warmth. Jordan didn't say my name. He didn't look at me to check if I was satisfied. He just dealt with the room's temperature as if it were a standard line item on the meeting agenda—an automatic, unthinking reaction to the small shiver I’d tried to hide five minutes earlier. That was the trap. If he had made a dramatic

  • One Night, Wrong Man   CHAPTER 85 Rumors Start

    *POV Derby "—and he stood by the garage ramp for ten minutes just waiting for her," a sharp whisper caught my ear as I rounded the corner near the breakroom. My foot suspended for a microsecond over the gray carpet before I forced myself to keep walking. I slid my water tumbler under the dispenser lever, keeping my spine completely straight. "No way," another voice answered, the rustle of a pastry wrapper deadening the shock. "Jordan Vasquez doesn't wait for anyone. He doesn't even wait for the board." "Look at the timestamp on the bottom frame, bestie. Three days ago, right after the regional strategy meeting. That’s definitely a female analyst stepping out of his car." Cold water trickled into my flask, the low hum of the machine doing little to drown out the sudden tightness in my throat. I didn't turn my head. I didn't freeze like someone caught red-handed. I just capped my tumbler with a firm, deliberate click and walked past the kitchen island, offering the two junior paral

  • One Night, Wrong Man   CHAPTER 84 — You’re Not Careful Anymore

    *POV Derby* Brass handle felt familiar against my palm, cool and solid, moving down under my weight without a second thought. I pushed open the frosted glass door to Jordan’s corner office, balancing a stack of updated compliance spreadsheets against my ribs while holding a second folder in my left hand. I didn't knock. I hadn't knocked on his door in three days. Jordan didn't look up from his monitor, his dark head bent over a series of legal drafts, but his hand reached out automatically, clear across the corner of his mahogany desk. He cleared space near his desk lamp, making room for the exact folder I was carrying before I had even crossed the rug. "The New Jersey port waivers came through," I said, setting the papers down right where his hand waited. I pulled a blue highlighter from my pocket and uncapped it with my thumb, leaving it beside his keyboard. "Paragraph four needed a second signature from the regional director." Jordan took the highlighter without a word, uncapp

  • One Night, Wrong Man   CHAPTER 83 — Something Soft

    *POV Derby*The high-gloss lacquer of the executive boardroom table reflected the blue glare of the overhead projector like a sheet of ice."The variance projections for the secondary transit corridors are entirely too optimistic, Miss Derby," Mr. Vance, the senior investor representative from the Hayden syndicate, tapped his gold fountain pen against his leather binder with a rhythmic, patronizing click. "If we hit a forty-eight-hour customs delay in New Jersey, your entire operational margin evaporates. It’s an amateur risk calculation."I didn't blink. I kept my spine straight against the back of my chair, my hands folded neatly over my closed tablet. "The contingency buffers in section three account for port strikes and seasonal customs backlog, Mr. Vance. The margin remains intact up to seventy-two hours.""On paper," Vance dismissed with a thin, tight smile that barely reached his eyes. "In reality, young lady, corporate launches don't give second chances to middle-tier analysts

  • One Night, Wrong Man   CHAPTER 82 — Closer Than Before

    *POV Derby* A sudden emergency directive from the board had accelerated the Apex launch timeline by three weeks, forcing the core task force into non-stop overtime. I leaned back in my ergonomic desk chair, rubbing the bridge of my nose where a dull, persistent ache was beginning to form. My screen was a sea of red cell fills, highlighted supply chain bottlenecks, and conflicting customs clearance reports from the ports in New Jersey. A shadow fell across the edge of my desk. Without saying a word, Jordan set a warm ceramic mug down next to my tablet. The distinct, rich aroma of hazelnut coffee with a single splash of oat milk filled the space between us. He didn't make a grand gesture. He didn't offer a dramatic smile or leaning in to murmur empty reassurances. He simply pulled up a leather stool from the neighboring empty workstation, sat down, and opened his own ledger folder, his long legs stretching out beneath the desk partition. I stared at the steam rising from the mug.

  • One Night, Wrong Man   CHAPTER 81 — You Stayed Anyway

    *POV Derby* A pale blue light flickered across the wall as the glass elevator glided up toward the thirty-fourth floor. I adjusted the lapel of my grey linen blazer, staring at my reflection in the polished doors. No trace of the frantic heartbeat that had kept me awake until dawn after reading that cryptic text message in my car. I was on time. Eight-fifteen sharp. When the elevator doors slid open, the high-rise office was already buzzing with the morning routine. Vacuum cleaners whirred in the distance, steam hissed from the breakroom espresso machine, and the usual stack of financial briefings sat waiting on my desk. I didn't head to the executive kitchen. I didn't linger by the glass partitions. I sat down, booted up my terminal, and pulled up the regional compliance audits for Q3. I wasn't staying here for Jordan Vasquez. I wasn't waiting for him to figure out his life, nor was I holding out hope for a secret apology behind closed doors. I had spent four years grinding t

  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 6 — Again

    -POV Derby The first thing that brought me back to reality wasn’t the blinding sunlight cutting through the heavy velvet drapes. It was the sheer, suffocating quiet of the room. I blinked my eyes open, my brain taking a messy five seconds to remember exactly where I was. Penthouse suite. The Four

  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 5 — The Night.

    -POV Derby Somewhere between freezing under Jordan Vasquez’s heavy gaze in the conference room and stepping into the private executive elevator, my brain completely short-circuited. I’d already decided to go upstairs. The rest was me desperately acting like this was still up for debate. The ride t

  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 4 — Impulse

    -POV Derby I spent most of Thursday morning pretending my life hadn’t become significantly more complicated over the course of a single night. By the time I slipped into a seat near the back of the conference room, my presentation was already open on my laptop. The slides waited patiently on the s

  • One Night, Wrong Man   Chapter 3 — Just a Name.

    -POV Derby By Monday I’d almost convinced myself it was over. Not in some dramatic way. Just… closed. Like shutting a tab you left open too long and deciding not to open it again. I made coffee that tasted like nothing. Went to work. Answered emails acting like the weekend had never happened,

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