WHEN DAMIEN TOLD me the conference room would be next to legal, I didn't realize legal made up an entire floor.I meander across the tile flooring, passing by sophisticated men and women dressed in pantsuits, each radiating confidence and knowing exactly where they're going. Unlike me, who's checking each door marked with a number, trying to figure out which direction I'm supposed to go.Room 2090, Private Accord Chamber A.Bingo.The glossy doorknob stares me down as I brush off my dress and nibblethe inside of my cheek. I'm about to enter an unknown domain, where I suspect to be a minnow up against an experienced shark.I wrote my conditions and sent them to Damien last night, but I don't know if they're final or need to be negotiated. He seems to hold all the power and expertise, so I dressed for compensation.Pink pumps and a small, sophisticated black dress with a modest neckline. Sofia didn't pick it out for me this time, because then I'd have to tell her the insane arrangement
TONIGHT'S the worst night of every month.My car creeps by the pristinely shaved hedges and rose bushes that linethe perimeter of my family's estate. Rounding a central water feature, I parallel park my McLaren between a shimmering Rolls-Royce and an Aston Martin.It appears most guests have arrived already for our family's monthly dinner. But I don't spot my brother's sports car.He's late, as always.Stepping out, I stare up at the building. I know those excluded from the highest echelons of society would be in awe of such a work of architecture, with its cobbled walls and tall pillars. But all I see are harrowing reminders of a past I shove deep inside myself.Taking a deep breath, I ascend the long row of steps, passing through the front door.Instantly, I recognize the foyer is different as I shrug off my long coat, studying the space. What was once gold with green accents, is now black- and-white checkered tiles and crystal chandeliers. When I dispose of my coat in a nearby clo
IT'S AMAZING, really, how it takes a single man to ruin a family, leaving the rest obsessive, irreparable fragments of their former selves. My mother and brother bury their heads in their own unique addictions, while I strive for a revenge fantasy that might leave me more broken than before.I can never dethrone my father. I abandoned that notion years ago. His portfolio is too strong and too expansive in the tech industry. But Bass Mobile is his crown jewel, the highest grossing asset he has, and I have them in my back pocket.During the growth of my business, it was essential that they were my client. It sickened me to admit it, but I needed Oscar for the revenue, and he needed me for microchips no other company could outperform. They still can't, and now I no longer need him. Companies around the world line up to be in business with me, and Oscar knows it.He knows his time using Innovex's technology is ticking, and there's nothing he can bribe me with before I cut him off complete
IF WORKING for Sterling is swimming in the shallow end of the pool, then being Damien Bass's personal assistant is getting thrown out to the mercy of the sea with no life jacket."Keep up, Miss Lockwood."I'm going to drown.Trailing his long steps, clipboard in hand, my heels dig into the thin carpet. I don't know what time it is, and I sure as hell don't know where we're going. He gave me access to his online schedule—which I'm apparently supposed to run now—but it's not much help.This man is in demand. So much so, that I wonder if Sterling did any work at all. I barely saw the inside of Bass Mobile, but when I did, he was never in meetings, never on phone calls. In fact, his office was notoriously empty. I never thought it odd, but I do now.Does he slow down? Eat? Take potty breaks? I huff a breath. And does he really need to walk so fast?"Where to next?" I pump my legs harder, finally catching up to him at the rows of elevators.This morning, when I got ready for the final time
THE WAY HANNAH paces in my office gives me the best view of her ass. "I cannot present with you, Damien. I'm serious." She whirls around, heading in the opposite direction, giving me another angle to admire. "Howcould you expect me to talk in front of all those people?"She might think she's being modest in her turtleneck top, but her skirtscreams otherwise. It's the same one she wore during her interview, black and tight in all the right places.She must know what it does to me."Because you can." I recline comfortably in my chair, stifling a groan. She doesn't have to work. I'd pay her to simply be in here. "It's not bad. There won't be that many people."She flicks her head at me, her pupils glaring.I'm lucky we're in my main office that has no glass for workers to see through. Otherwise, my employees might think my new personal assistant has lost her mind."I know what the Silicon Summit is." She pops her hip out, her hand snapping to rest on it. "There will be thousands in the
MY SUITCASE COULDN'T LOOK MORE WORN out. I heave my body on top of it, forcing the clothes further down. I try the zipper, but it gets stuck.Sofia sits criss cross on my bed, watching me with an amusing look on her face.She knows everything. I thought I'd keep my arrangement with Damien a secret from her, but I caved. We tell each other everything. It's been that way since we shared a dorm room in college.I'd feel bad for leaving, even if it's only for two months, if it weren't for Jenna moving into our spare bedroom next week.I glance up to find her sipping her blended beverage."It's not even Tuesday," I say.She raises her eyebrows. "Any day is a good day for a margarita. Notjust Tuesdays." Her blended strawberry concoction chills her glass cloudy. A tiny umbrella and a straw point out of the top. "You're still coming, though, right?"Practically belly flopping on top of the fabric, the zipper finally seals shut. God, it's going to be humiliating dragging this raggedy old thin
I RELEASE her from my weight, my feet landing on the floor. Her hair sprawls out on the white cushion and her cheeks flush a bright crimson.She's dressed much more casually than when she left the office. Instead of a blouse and skirt, she wears tight jeans and a sweater. Even in less revealing clothing, she's still sexy as sin. Seeing her dress in something normal for a change gives me a glimpse at the true side of her, and it seems to awaken something carnal within me.She bristles and stands to her feet, frantically smoothing out her hair and struggling to look me in the eye. Actually, she's avoiding looking at my half-naked body altogether."I didn't expect such a warm welcome," she hisses, staring out the window with her chest heaving up and down.A dark contentment burns in my middle.I already informed my housing staff of her arrival, but they still need to see us together. I need them to believe we've been together for some time, and soon the world will think so too.A smug fe
I'M DREAMING.HANNAHI've never been a lucid dreamer who's acutely aware of the distinction between dreamland and reality. Every night, if I dream at all, I go about them blissfully unaware that my actions are anything but real.Except for one dream.One I wish would stop coming. I've learned to recognize its signs. An uneasy feeling prickling at the back of my neck, followed by loud blood pumping in my ears, until—The shed.I freeze in place, staring at the surrounding sunflowers and its rusted white paint.That's how it is. Average, pleasant dream, followed by a shed in the most peculiar of places. Sometimes it reveals itself while I'm walking the dreamlands of Central Park, or outside the office I work at, or in my very own living room, balancing atop the couch and coffee table.But tonight... tonight it seems to be where it truly lives, where it's always been.My family's farm.I approach it with caution, the backyard's overgrown grass brushing up against my shins. Over my should
HANNAH - 5 YEARS LATER"Are you... crying?"Sofia avoids my stare. Her head angles down towards the stage directlybelow us, to the ballerina twirling in circles on her toes in the hands of her partner. Wearing a white tutu, her brows droop downwards in an expression of pure drama and struggle."No." More sniffles."Oh my god... You are." After shooting me a stern look and retrieving a fresh handkerchief from her purse, she returns to craning over the side of the gold box railing. "And to think, only yesterday, you didn't want to come. Said it'd be too boring."She ignores me, her eyes widening when fog floats from the corners of the stage, the intense music growing ever louder.I don't blame her. I was skeptical about attending my first ballet show, too. But now I understand and appreciate its beauty, in a similar way when Damien plays the piano for me when we're alone. I can recognize the same thrill and excitement in his features as the dancers below.Tonight's performance of Swan
HANNAH"ISN'T it so much better when I plan our weekend getaways?"My lips thin, overlooking the ocean from the balcony of our villa."You've asked that every day we've been here, Damien."His chuckle is low in my ear as he wraps his arms around me, raisingmy temperature even higher than the private hot tub we're in. Our view is impeccable, along with the other villas that stand proudly in the water, tracing along the island's coastal line.Who knew houses come on stilts?We've been in Bora Bora for over a week, and I've enjoyed every second. At first, he told me we were going for a weekend vacation, just us two, and loaded up the jet with a bag I didn't pack. He then ignored all my questions about where we're headed.My guesses were Florida and Mexico. But no. I realized I was dead wrong after our flight took over eighteen hours. And then I made the even bigger realization that Damien... Damien was taking a real vacation. Not a weekend, but nearly two weeks off.I smirk.He's come s
THESE WALLS NEVER BUILT A HOME.They built a cage.My steps across my family's estate’s hallways are slow, my eyes wandering to key destinations of my childhood that would always spark awful memories.Because, when I normally pass by the archway that leads to the kitchen, I wouldn't see it as the beautiful architecture that it is. I would see my mother's last act of rebellion, struggling against my father's hold on her, before she received the final blow that turned her into the mindless aristocrat she is now. All the genuine joy expressed through her love of dance—gone.And when I'd near my father's study, I would hear Sterling's small cries as he banged against the door that always proved to be permanently closed. Often, it was me he'd hear inside, not getting much better treatment, until some maid would sweep him off his feet to carry him back to his room.But on this day, I don't see the house the same way. Right now, it seems fragile to me. Like glass.My steps quicken, with one
HANNAH SITS in a simmering silence that would intimidate anyone. Makeup artists blot fuzzy brushes to her face. A man behind her clamps a strand of her hair between an iron. And another tapes a wire underneath the strap of her blouse. Sitting on a black swivel chair, the bottoms of herflayed pantsuit reach the ends of her thin stilettos.She hasn't said a single word since entering backstage over an hour ago,and I know she must be planning something, not that she's going to share anything with me. She distinctly left that part out last night when she blew up my entire world to splinters, then informed me to go about our presentation as normal.Do you trust me? she had asked.And I didn't hesitate then, and I won't now, even before dozens of live- recording cameras and thousands in the audience.Mysterious schemes rage behind her eyes like dark tides of the sea, hinting at the rarely seen danger inside the woman before me, making me question who it really is I'm in love with... It's
I WISH I could go back to the girl I was a month ago, who was only trying to save her family from bankruptcy.Not from their murder.Sitting on the floor of my bedroom, I rest my back against the side of my bed as light streams underneath my closed door. I twist the engagement ring around my finger, embracing the pointless warmth it gives me.Damien and I can't be. But I still put it on the instant I got back, allowing myself to pretend for a while longer that the world believes we're newly engaged and we're unveiling the most anticipated microchip of the twenty-first century.But that can never happen. Tomorrow, Damien will be alone on the stage, his father watching with satisfied eyes as he tells the audience it's Bass Mobile who wins the prize for an entire year. Their stocks will skyrocket, their phones soon reigning supreme, and its users will never know the danger they slip into their pockets.My phone rings on the floor next to me, shining a familiar face I’ve grown to love on
MY BIOLOGICAL FATHER doesn't want to be found.One quick search of Victor Strauss online gave me all the information Ineeded, including his company and personal phone number. I've called many times—late last night, early this morning and an hour ago—stating who I was and practically begging him to talk to me.Which felt wrong in and of itself, because why should I have to be the one to beg? Was his reaction at the charity event all an act? He certainly recognized me and tried to chase me down before Damien got to me first.The only answer I received was as a cryptic envelope slipped underneath our door ten minutes ago. Inside, black ink marked a white slip of paper.The Crimson Lotus9:00Lifting my head to the Vietnamese restaurant glowing neon red againstthe rainy night sky, I cross the street, studying those inside. But I'm unable to see anyone. The windows are quite dark, which wouldn't bother me so much if this wasn't such a sketchy part of the city.Upon my entrance, a bell ab
NOTHING SPARKS my imagination more than the touch of the wheel beneath my fingertips, even if I'm not tall enough to see through the windshield."Vrr... Vrrr!" I mimic the purr of the engine, feeling vibrations as I pinch my lower lip between my teeth and push air from my lungs.There's no light inside Daddy's shop, not when it's past midnight, aside from the glow from a small desk lamp on top of his workbench. But that makes the thrill more worth it, sneaking out late without making a sound, letting my mind run rampant.With one turn of the wheel, I'm roaring down an open road with no destination in sight. A sandy breeze whisks my hair past my shoulders, invading every crevice of the roofless red Mustang I drive beside an endless ocean."Brrr." My lips flop with a funny feeling.With the next turn of the wheel, I'm a champion speed demon on my sure way to win my seventh NASCAR trophy. My legs elongate to their appropriate size, the bottom of my foot pinning the gas pedal to the groun
HANNAH IS a presence I've grown to need, much like a soothing melody to my ear or oxygen for my soul.For the past two weeks, her warmth has chipped away the chronic stress from my shoulders like wax dripping from a candle, leaving behind a man I can hardly recognize—with a sense of calm and joy.On several occasions, I've laughed so hard with her at the most mundane of things, that tears lined my eyes in a way they haven't since... I don't know how long. It's very clear to me now that she makes me not only a better lover, but a better person, who sees optimism in an unpredictable future, instead of trying to control it.A week ago, she convinced me to take a day off work to go have tea with my mother. Never would I have done that—obviously, not because of my mother, who I adore. But because the very thought of leaving my company unattended, even though I know there are people I specifically hire to handle my affairs when I'm absent, has always been horrid to me. As if one day off cou
HANNAH IS a presence I've grown to need, much like a soothing melody to my ear or oxygen for my soul.For the past two weeks, her warmth has chipped away the chronic stress from my shoulders like wax dripping from a candle, leaving behind a man I can hardly recognize—with a sense of calm and joy.On several occasions, I've laughed so hard with her at the most mundane of things, that tears lined my eyes in a way they haven't since... I don't know how long. It's very clear to me now that she makes me not only a better lover, but a better person, who sees optimism in an unpredictable future, instead of trying to control it.A week ago, she convinced me to take a day off work to go have tea with my mother. Never would I have done that—obviously, not because of my mother, who I adore. But because the very thought of leaving my company unattended, even though I know there are people I specifically hire to handle my affairs when I'm absent, has always been horrid to me. As if one day off cou