LOGINI spent the rest of the week at the Norman house.Steve drove me to and from work every day without complaint. He didnāt push, didnāt ask why I was sleeping in my old room again, didnāt mention the way I sometimes stared at my engagement ring weirdly. He just⦠was there. Quiet. Steady. Familiar.Knox didnāt call. Didnāt text. Didnāt show up.The office was a minefield.Mike kept his distance after our lunch, but I caught him watching meāconcern in his eyes every time Aiden walked past my desk with that smug little smirk. Knox was a ghost: with his doors closed, endless meetings and his eyes avoiding mine in the hallways.By Friday I felt like I was coming apart at the seams.I was late.Not late-for-a-meeting late. Late-late, for my period.Five days. Then six. Then seven.Iād been irregular beforeāstress, grief, the chaos of moving in with Knoxābut never this late. And the nausea that hit every morning, the way my breasts ached when I took off my bra at night, the bone-deep exhaustio
Steveās SUV smelled like pine cleaner and the faint trace of cigarette smoke he always tried to hide from his mom. It was familiar in a way that made my chest acheāthe same scent that clung to the old Norman house where Iād spent most of my teenage years after the accident.He didnāt take me to his apartment. He drove straight to the house in the suburbs, the one his parents still lived in, the one that had been my safe place when the world fell apart at fourteen.The porch light was on. Mrs. NormanāEllenāopened the door before we even reached it, wrapping me in a hug that smelled like vanilla and home without asking a single question. She just murmured, āOh, sweetheart,ā and led me inside.Steve carried my bag. His dad, Paul, gave me a quiet nod from the recliner, the TV flickering with some late-night news. They didnāt pry. They never had.Ellen made me chamomile tea and tucked me into the guest room that used to be mineāsame pale blue walls, same quilt Lena and I picked out at sixt
I didnāt go straight to the penthouse after work. I couldnāt face itānot after the day Iād had.I walked the cold streets for hours, letting the December sleet soak through my coat, watching happy couples hurry past with shopping bags and linked arms. My phone stayed dark. No texts from Knox. No calls. Just that last message from hours ago: Staying at the office tonight. Donāt wait up.As if Iād been waiting up for him like some lovesick fool.By the time I finally keyed myself into the penthouse, it was past eleven. The lights were low, the city glittering beyond the windows like a mockery of everything I thought Iād have when I signed that stupid fake-engagement contract.Knox was home.He stood in the kitchen, back to me, pouring scotch into a crystal glass. His jacket was gone, sleeves rolled up, the muscles in his forearms tense as he gripped the bottle harder than necessary. Heād heard me come ināhe always didābut he didnāt turn around right away.āYouāre late,ā he said finally,
I didnāt go back to my desk after the break-room disaster. I couldnāt.I hid in the ladiesā room for twenty minutes, splashing cold water on my face until the red blotches faded and I looked almost human again. My phone buzzed twiceāLena asking if I was alive, then Knox with a single word: Boardroom.Of course there was a board meeting. There was always something that required the perfect fake fiancĆ©e to sit prettily beside the CEO and pretend we were madly in love.I fixed my lipstick, straightened my blazer, and walked into the executive conference room like I hadnāt just seen a ghost.Everyone was already seated. Knox at the head of the table, Aiden to his right looking smug, the usual gray-haired board members scattered around. And thereādirectly across from my usual chairāwas Mike.He stood when I entered, like some old-fashioned gentleman. A few heads turned. Knox didnāt stand. He didnāt even look up from his tablet.āGood morning, everyone,ā I said, voice steady by some mirac
***Rosalie*** I stood in the middle of Knoxās office feeling like a criminal on trial. The embezzlement sting had worked perfectly last night. Iād sat alone at my desk until 2 a.m., pretending to reconcile accounts while the IT team traced every keystroke. They caught the thief red-handed. Case closed. I thought that would be the end of it. I was wrong. Aiden leaned against the glass wall with his arms folded, watching me the way a cat watches a bird with a broken wing. Knox sat behind his desk, elbows on the polished mahogany, fingers steepled. He hadnāt looked at me once since I walked in. āSo let me get this straight,ā Aiden drawled. āThe money only moved when Rosalie was the sole person logged into the bait account. Funny coincidence.ā My stomach lurched. āI was the bait. That was the entire point.ā āConvenient bait,ā Aiden said. āAlmost like someone knew exactly when the trace would be active.ā I turned to Knox, waiting for him to shut this d
āI didnāt see much of you at the party,ā I said to Steve as I looked over at him. His nose is scrunched up in that way it usually is whenever heās kind of shy. āYeah, you were kind of busy with your guests.ā āSo? You could have hung around more.ā āI guess.ā He swiped at the back of his neck. āSorry.ā The car became silent once again, aside from the occasional rumble of the engine. āAre you happy?ā He asked suddenly. āHuh?ā āKnox Carter. Does he make you happy?ā āHe does,ā I said with a smile. āThatās good then.ā He said with a tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself. The car came to a stop right in front of my building. I unbuckled my seatbelt and fully turned to him. āThank you,ā I whispered. āYouāre welcome,ā he mumbled back. āHowās your girlfriend doing?ā I asked. āWhat girlfriend?ā He replied surprised. āYours.ā āYou know I donāt have any.ā āWhich is exactly wh
***Rosalie*** I put my hand over the phone. āLivvie says we should sit somewhere out of sight so he doesnāt see us.ā Tim points at me. āGreat idea.ā He grabs me by the hand and leads us over to a booth. āIāll sit here. You go and get drinks,ā he snaps as he slides into the seat.
***Rosalie*** My body locked when he said my name but my eyeballs swivelled to Vivian who was shockingly completely immune to the scary vibes sparking menacingly in the room. āIāll talk to your latest piece of ass however the fuck I want, dickhead.ā At that, Knox moved a
***Rosalie*** His hand has a strong grip on my hip bone as he rocks me back and forward with force. Our eyes are locked, and this is one of those moments where neither of us speaksāitās perfect without words. He grabs a handful of my hair and drags me down to him; his lips take
***Rosalie*** The party was in full swing. People were mingling and laughing, Iām very happy. Iāve interacted with everyone except Ana. Sheās not speaking to me or her father. I have no idea what she thinks about all this. Emma went all out with the decorations. The tables are covered







