HOPING TO NEVER MEET AGAIN DIDN'T WORK OUT

Myra's Pov

By the time I got home, Vincent was already there with a lawyer.

"Where have you been all night?" he snapped before I could even open my mouth. His eyes dragged over the clothes I was still wearing from the night before, and his lip curled in disgust. "God, you look terrible."

My heart dropped, but I said nothing.

"Come sign the papers," he said. "The lawyer's already here."

I followed him silently into the dining room, where Janice sat at the far end of the dining table, looking far too comfortable for someone who'd ruined my life less than twenty-four hours ago.

The lawyer adjusted his glasses as I took my seat. "Are you sure about this, Mrs. Cross?" He glanced toward Vincent. "Mr. Cross?"

"Yes," Vincent said flatly. "We both want the separation. She was the one who suggested it."

The lawyer looked to me for confirmation. I nodded.

"Yes," I said quietly. "I think it's best we separate."

"Alright. Please sign here."

I picked up the pen and signed without hesitation. Vincent had already signed his part.

The lawyer stood. "It's done. You're no longer a married couple."

Vincent exhaled. "Thank goodness."

As the lawyer left, Vincent gestured toward a stack of luggages by the kitchen door. "Your things are over there. I already packed them for you. You can leave the house now."

I didn't argue. I walked over, picked up my bags, and rolled them toward the door.

When I reached it, I turned back to face him.

"Don't think this is over," I said, my voice steady despite everything inside me shaking. "You used me for six years. Stole my company. Stole my life. Stole my youth. And then dumped me for her."

Janice's lips twisted into a smirk, but I didn't look away from Vincent.

"I'm going to make you pay for all of this," I said. "Mark my words, Vincent."

Then I walked out the door.

I had nearly a Three hundred thousand dollars in my account, enough to get by while I figured out my next move, while I looked for a job. I was done with this marriage, done with being the woman who stayed quiet, small and emotionally abused

But one thought remained, burning steady beneath everything else.

One promise.

Vincent would pay for this. For everything he'd done. For six years of deceit.

I didn't know how yet.

But I was going to get my revenge, one way or another.

******

After going through different job options, I finally settled on one. It was a secretary position at Dantrix Tech.

I studied the job description, secretary to the CEO. Even though I had never done a secretary job before, I used to manage my father's company back before I married Vincent. I knew I could do this. So I applied.

They called me five days later, and I went in for an interview. Afterward, the PA kindly told me he'd get back to me within three days. I left, not putting too much hope on it.

When I got back to the small apartment I'd just rented, I lay on my bed, staring at the faded ceiling. The place was run-down compared to the life I used to have, but I was ready to manage. I had no other choice.

On Monday morning, my phone rang.

"Hello, Miss Mayfield. This is Mr. Brandon from Dantrix Tech. I interviewed you last Friday."

I shot up in bed, my heart pounding. "Yes, good morning," I said, my voice shaky.

"This is Miss Mayfield, correct? You've gotten the position. Congratulations."

My hand flew to my mouth. I couldn't believe it.

"Oh my God, thank you so much. Thank you so much," I repeated, probably three times too many.

"That's fine, Miss Mayfield," he said, sounding amused. "Can you start tomorrow morning?"

"Of course. That would be no problem at all."

"Thank you for your cooperation," he said, and hung up.

The moment the call ended, I jumped around my room, laughing, hardly believing it.

Landing a job at a corporation like Dantrix felt like a dream come true. That company was like one of the Giants in the tech world. One of the fastest rising corporation

*****

By Tuesday morning, I was fully dressed, checking my reflection one last time, a fitted jacket, pencil skirt, red heels.

I'd pulled my hair back into a sleek ponytail, leaving a few strands loose to frame my round face. I looked good and most importantly professional. Like someone who hadn't spent the last week crying on a rented bed.

I grabbed my bag and left.

Thirty minutes later, I stepped into the Dantrix building. The lobby buzzed with people moving in every direction, phones pressed to ears, heels clicking against marble.

I walked up to the reception desk. The woman behind it glanced up, her brow lifting slightly.

"Can I help you?" Her tone was polite, but something underneath it felt faintly dismissive.

I smiled anyway. "I'm the new secretary for Mr. Dantrix. "

Her eyes widened, and she straightened in her seat. "Right, take the elevator to floor eighty-two."

"Thank you."

The elevator doors slid open onto a floor that felt like its own world, it was calmer and sleek. I followed the directions the receptionist had given, scanning for the office.

A man approached, and it took me a second to place him, the one who'd interviewed me the week before.

"Good morning, Miss Mayfield," he said. "Mr Brandon. I hope you're ready for work."

"Yes, sir," I said, nodding.

"Right this way. Time to meet your new boss."

He led me down the hall and opened a glass door into a large office. A man stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to me, looking out over the city like he had a hundred things running through his head at once.

"She here, boss," Mr Brandon announced before leaving the office.

I cleared my throat.

"Good morning, sir."

"Morning," he said, his voice low, and something about it made me freeze for just a second.

It somehow sounded familiar.

"I'm Miss Mayfield," I said, my voice catching slightly. "Your new secretary."

When he turned, my heart nearly stopped.

It was him. The man from the club. The man whose bed I'd woken up in and run from a week ago hoping to never meet again.

******

Jade'S POV

It had been a week, and I still couldn’t get her out of my head.

I stared at the bracelet on my desk; small, delicate, a thin gold chain with a tiny moon charm. She must have lost it in my sheets that morning, slipping away before I’d even opened my eyes.

I’d woken up reaching for her. But all I found was cold sheets instead.

At first I thought she was in the bathroom. Then I called her name through the empty apartment. No answer. By the time I accepted she was really gone, all I had left was a first name and this piece of jewelry.

No last name. No number. Nothing.

The next night I’d gone back to the club and asked around. I described her to the bartender first.

“Hey, you remember a woman named Myra? Dark hair, gorgeous smile, left with me last night?”

The bartender shrugged. “Sorry, man. Faces blur together after midnight.”

I moved on to the bouncer at the door.

“Big guy, you see a girl named Myra leave? She was with me.”

The bouncer barely glanced up. “No clue, boss. Too many people coming and going.”

It was like she’d vanished into thin air.

I told myself it didn’t matter. Women didn’t usually leave my bed without leaving their number, practically begging for round two. But Myra had bolted like I was something to escape from.

It annoyed me more than I wanted to admit.

I sat at my desk, turning the bracelet over in my fingers, half-lost in thought, when the intercom buzzed.

“Sir,” Brandon said, “your new secretary is here. Should I send her in?”

I barely looked up. “Yeah. Send her in.”

I stood and walked toward the window, staring out at the skyline without really seeing it. My mind was still on her—the way she’d looked in the mirror, the way she’d moaned my name.

The door opened behind me.

“Good morning, sir.”

The voice hit me like a live current straight through my chest.

I turned.

And there she was.

Standing in my office in a crisp blazer and heels, holding a folder against her chest, looking just as stunned as I felt.