Chapter two

The next morning, nothing unusual happened, yet the strange unease from the previous day still clung to my thoughts like smoke trapped inside a room. I had hoped the night with Derrick would calm me down, smooth away the tension that had settled inside my chest, but it hadn’t helped at all. If anything, waking up only made the feeling sharper.

When I opened my eyes, Derrick was already gone.

That wasn’t surprising. Derrick treated discipline like religion itself. By six in the morning he would already be dressed, fed, and halfway through his plans for the day while the rest of the world still struggled to leave their beds—that includes me.

I stared at the empty side beside me for a moment before stretching lazily beneath the sheets. Sunlight slipped through the curtains, touching the expensive furniture in warm gold. The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of traffic outside.

Unlike Derrick, my mornings had no urgency attached to them.

I wasn’t one of those miserable employees who woke up panicking about angry bosses, missed deadlines, or screaming executives ready to spit insults because someone arrived ten minutes late.

I owned my boss.

Well… not literally.

But power inside LW Publishers had always leaned more toward me than toward anyone else. Even Laney Wayne himself, that's my boss, understood that. I managed deals, approved contracts, organized schedules, and controlled most of the people who came in and out of his office. There were times employees spoke to me more carefully than they spoke to him.

And maybe that was the problem.

Power became addictive after a while. It wrapped itself around you so tightly that eventually nobody could touch you anymore. Nobody could make you nervous. Nobody could make you feel vulnerable.

Except Derrick.

That was the reason I kept holding onto my marriage even when my loyalty had started rotting long ago.

The truth was ugly. During Derrick’s trip, I had not spent every night alone like a faithful wife waiting patiently for her husband’s return. Laney had been there more than once. It was reckless, selfish, and dangerous, but with Laney, it had never been emotional. He was simply convenient.

Derrick was different.

Derrick had the terrifying ability to make me feel small in ways no one else could. Weak. Exposed. Human.

And somehow, I hated and needed it at the same time.

I pushed the thoughts away and climbed out of bed.

The apartment still smelled faintly of Derrick’s cologne mixed with steam from the shower he had taken earlier. I walked into the bathroom, tied my hair back, and stared at my reflection in the mirror while brushing my teeth.

My blue eyes looked tired.

Not physically tired.

Mentally.

As if something unpleasant waited for me ahead and my instincts already knew it before I did.

An hour later, I stepped out of the building dressed in a fitted white shirt, dark trousers, and black heels. The city morning had already fully awakened. Cars rolled through the streets, impatient motorcycle riders squeezed between traffic, and roadside vendors shouted over one another while arranging fruits and newspapers beneath umbrellas.

LW Publishers sat downtown between older commercial buildings and cafés that had survived long before modern luxury invaded the city. It wasn’t some giant glass skyscraper that pierced the clouds. The company occupied a renovated four-story structure built from dark brick and wide windows, giving it the appearance of an old newspaper office from another decade.

Laney liked that style.

He always said giant skyscrapers were for insecure businessmen desperate to prove importance.

The security guard opened the entrance door the moment he saw me approaching.

“Morning, Mrs. Derrick.”

I gave him a distracted smile. “Morning, Samuel.”

Inside, the familiar scent of paper, coffee, and printer ink greeted me immediately. Employees moved through the lobby carrying folders and unfinished conversations while phones rang somewhere deeper inside the building.

“Mel!”

The voice came from the reception desk.

Doris.

I turned toward her just in time to see her standing up from her chair with the same dramatic energy she carried every single morning. Doris was impossible to ignore even in a crowd. Her curly hair bounced wildly around her shoulders, and her bright lipstick made her grin impossible to miss.

“There she is,” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “The missing married woman.”

I laughed softly and walked over to her desk. “I wasn’t missing.”

“You've been so quiet this weekend,” Doris complained.

“Why's that?”

“No, seriously.” She leaned closer. “Laney nearly walked holes into the floor yesterday.”

That made me pause slightly.

“He came in yesterday? But it was weekend.”

“He came in Saturday, too.” Doris lowered her voice. “And trust me, he was waiting for you.”

I reached for the cup of coffee sitting on her desk and stole a sip before she slapped my hand away.

“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered.

“You love me anyway.”

“Unfortunately.”

Doris studied my face for a second longer before her teasing expression softened.

“You okay, though?” she asked quietly.

The question caught me off guard.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged lightly. “You just look distracted.”

For a moment, I almost told her about the strange feeling haunting me since yesterday. Doris had been my closest friend for years. She knew nearly everything about me.

Nearly.

But not about that past.

Instead, I forced a smile. “I’m fine. Derrick came back last night. That’s all.”

Immediately, her eyebrows rose. “Ah. That explains the glow.”

“Shut up.”

She laughed loudly while I shook my head and turned away from her desk.

“Go save your company, boss lady,” she called after me. “Your boyfriend has been dying without you.”

I raised my middle finger without looking back, as she laughed behind me.

The second floor housed most of the editorial offices, but Laney’s personal office sat alone at the far end beside the conference room. The hallway leading there was quieter than the rest of the building, with only the distant sound of keyboards and muffled voices behind closed doors.

As I walked, that strange uneasiness returned again.

Stronger this time.

I slowed slightly.

Maybe it was guilt finally catching up to me. Maybe it was exhaustion. Or maybe Derrick’s sudden return had simply thrown my mind into confusion.

Still, the feeling remained.

Something was wrong.

I reached my office first. It sat directly opposite Laney’s larger office across the hallway, separated by glass walls partially covered by blinds. Normally I could already hear him on the phone yelling at someone by this time of morning.

Today there was silence.

I stepped inside my office and placed my bag on the desk.

Then I noticed it.

Laney’s office door was slightly open.

That alone wasn’t unusual.

What caught my attention was the voice inside.

A man’s voice.

Low.

Calm.

Unfamiliar.

I froze briefly.

Laney rarely entertained visitors this early, especially on Mondays. Most meetings passed through me first before anyone reached him.

Yet someone was already sitting inside his office before I even arrived.

I moved closer to the glass wall instinctively, trying to catch a glimpse through the partially closed blinds, but the angle revealed almost nothing except the edge of the couch and Laney’s hand moving while he spoke.

Before I could think further, Laney’s voice suddenly called out.

“Melinda.”

I straightened immediately.

“Come in.”

I adjusted my expression into something professional before opening the door.

The first thing I noticed was Laney himself standing beside his desk with unusual stiffness in his posture. He looked strangely uncomfortable, which alone was enough to alarm me. Laney Wayne was not a man who became uncomfortable easily.

Then my eyes shifted toward the visitor sitting calmly on the leather couch.

And my breath nearly disappeared.

For a second I genuinely thought my mind had betrayed me... that I was seeing a ghost or something out of the ordinary completely.

It couldn’t be—Him, not here.

He looked grown up, older now, his angular face as devastating as ever, dressing in a dark suit that fit him too perfectly, but the dark eyes were exactly the same.

He stared directly at me without blinking.

Recognition hit me so violently that my body forgot how to move.

No.

No, it couldn’t be—Laney cleared his throat awkwardly, unaware of the storm suddenly tearing through my mind.

“Melinda,” he said carefully, “this is Adrian Vale.”

The stranger slowly stood to his feet.

And smiled—damn he smiled at me!? So the message wasn't some prank after all even after I forced myself to believe so.

But that wasn't his name—Adrian Vale.