3

Elena's Point of View

I didn't even have time to breathe.

One second he was across the lobby. The next, he was right in front of me, so close I could smell his cologne, the same one that had been on the sheets that morning.

"You."

That was all he said. Then the papers hit my face.

They slapped against my cheek and burst apart, and white pages fell around my feet like snow. One of them stuck to my blouse. Someone in the crowd gasped.

"Do you know what those are?" His voice cracked through the lobby like thunder. "Do you?"

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

"Those are the Hartley contract files!" he shouted. "Confidential. Locked in my office safe. And they were sent to our biggest competitor at six o'clock last night!"

I looked down at the pages on the floor. I saw the Cross Industries logo. Numbers. Signatures. I had never seen these papers in my life.

"Mr. Cross, I don't—"

"Don't you dare speak!"

I flinched. My whole body flinched, and I hated that everyone saw it.

"Two years," he said, stepping closer. "Two years I let you work in my building. I gave you access. I trusted you with my schedule, my emails, my meetings. And this is how you repay me?"

"I didn't do anything. I swear I didn't—"

"Your login was used!" He pointed a finger at my face. "Your badge was scanned! Your name is all over it!"

"That's impossible. I was—"

I stopped. Because I knew exactly where I was at six o'clock last night. I was at a bar with Tessa, getting drunk. And at nine, I was in his arms.

In his arms.

I couldn't say that. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

"Where were you?" he asked, and his voice dropped lower, colder. "Go on. Tell them. Where were you last night, Elena?"

My heart stopped.

Did he know? Was he really going to say it?

I looked around the lobby. Every face was turned toward me. The receptionist. The security guards. People from finance, from marketing, from legal. People who nodded at me in the elevator every morning. People who had no idea that last night I had been pressed against a glass wall, moaning his name.

I said nothing.

His lip curled. "That's what I thought."

He leaned in, and when he spoke again it was quiet, but the whole room still heard it.

"You think I wouldn't find out? You think you can open your legs for me and walk away with my company?"

The air left my lungs.

"You're nothing but a cheap, lying whore."

Somebody whispered oh my God. Somebody else laughed, a small, shocked laugh that cut through me like glass.

My face went hot. Then my neck. Then my whole body. I felt it crawl all the way up to my ears. I wanted to disappear. I wanted the floor to open and take me down so deep that no one would ever find me.

"I built this company with my own hands," he said, his voice shaking now with pure rage. "I bled for it. And I will never, ever let a pathetic little gold digger like you ruin it."

I couldn't move. I couldn't think. The words kept hitting me one after another, and my brain couldn't keep up.

Whore. Gold digger. Cheap.

Then I saw the phones.

They were everywhere. Held up in the crowd like tiny black windows. The man from accounting. The girl in the blue blouse from the meeting, the one who had felt sorry for me yesterday. Two security guards. A woman by the elevators. All of them recording. All of them pointing their cameras at my face.

By lunch, this would be everywhere. My name. My face. The word he had called me.

My eyes started to burn. I blinked hard, but the tears came anyway, hot and fast, and rolled down my cheeks in front of all those cameras. I tried to wipe them away, but my hands were shaking too badly. My lip trembled. I bit down on it to stop the sound that wanted to come out.

Don't cry. Please, Elena, don't cry here.

But I was crying.

And he just stood there and watched, with eyes as cold as stone, like it meant nothing to him.

Like last night meant nothing.

"You're fired," he said.

The words landed so softly after all the shouting.

"Effective immediately. Security will escort you out. Your things will be sent to you. If you ever step foot in this building again, I will have you arrested."

He turned to the guards. "Get her out of my sight."

I nodded.

I don't know why. I just nodded, like a stupid, broken doll, because I couldn't think of anything else to do. My ears were ringing. The lobby was blurry. I heard whispers like they were coming from underwater. I looked at the papers on the floor, and the faces, and the phones, and I felt so small, so dirty, so used.

I turned toward the doors.

One step. Two.

I could feel every eye on my back. I could hear someone say, "Is that her? Did you see?" I could hear my own breathing, short and shaky.

Then something inside me snapped.

I stopped. I turned around.

Damian was already walking away, one hand pulling at his tie, like he was done with me and ready to get on with his day. Like he hadn't just ripped my whole life apart in front of a hundred people.

"Damian."

He looked back.

I didn't think. I didn't plan it. My body just moved.

I walked up to him and slapped him across the face.

The crack echoed through the lobby.

It was so loud that for a moment, nobody breathed. Then a gasp went through the crowd, one big sound, like the whole room had been punched at once. Someone dropped a phone. Someone whispered, "Oh my God."

His head had turned to the side from the force of it. A red mark was already rising on his cheek.

My hand stung. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I would be sick. And the second I realized what I had done, I felt the shock go through me like ice water.

He slowly turned his head back. His eyes locked on mine, dark and furious and almost unreadable.

I should have been scared. I should have run.

Instead, I lifted my chin, with tears still running down my face.

"I hope you fucking suffer!" My voice broke, but I said it loud enough for everyone to hear. "I hope you suffer for the rest of your miserable life, you heartless bastard!"

Then I ran.

I pushed through the crowd, past the guards, past the staring faces. I shoved the glass doors open so hard they banged against the wall. The cold air hit my wet cheeks as I raced across the parking lot with my heels clicking on the ground.

I got into my car, slammed the door, and shoved the key in with shaking hands.

The engine roared. I peeled out of the lot without looking back.

I drove with no direction, with blurry eyes and a pounding chest. My whole body was shaking. I couldn't stop it.

I needed to breathe.

I needed air.

I needed to stop seeing his face.

But all I could hear, over and over, was one word.

Whore.