But the real question is—how far is he actually willing to go?“Hello, Taki. Here’s what I want you to do,” Trey says into his phone, his voice smooth, calculated. “Get the video. The police report. Get those eyewitnesses—the waitress from the restaurant. Yes, do a whole spread. Make sure a person living under a rock gets it. My mother will handle the legal stuff.”I grip the door handle, ready to leave. Ready to walk away.But something stops me.Am I really doing this?I know I’m furious with Emerson. Beyond furious. But am I really ready to leave, knowing what I’d be leaving behind?Would I be able to go away with a clear conscience?Some people would say it has nothing to do with me. That, it’s not my problem. It's not my fault that Emmerson acted that way……But I feel responsible.If I hadn’t been in that position with Trey, Emerson wouldn’t have acted the way he did.He thought Trey was assaulting me.And yes—Trey was assaulting me.And Emerson? He was just trying to protect me.
“Come on, let's go,” Trey says as he takes my bag and starts helping me out of the door.But the moment he takes it, he shakes it and says, “What’s in here? It’s so light. Do you even have any clothes in there?”“It’s fine,” I tell him, trying to brush it off.But then Trey, being Trey, suddenly changes direction from leaving the house to getting back inside. He puts the bag on top of the sofa and then just opens my luggage like it belongs to him.“Trey, what are you doing?” I ask, my voice rising. “Why are you opening my suitcase?”“I want to see what you packed in here,” he says, completely unaffected by my reaction. “You’re a girl. I know how girls and clothes are, and this is too light. It’s almost like there’s nothing in there.”I rush to stop him, but he’s already opened the suitcase, revealing the meagre pieces of clothing inside. I can’t help but feel embarrassed as I see the sad, barely there pile of clothes he’s uncovered.He looks at me with disbelief, shaking his head. “
My words feel like a final statement, a line I’m drawing between us. I don’t need his approval, his advice, or his version of what love should be.I push his hand away, and he watches me with that look I can’t quite decipher—it's like he's trying to figure me out, studying me. I hate that look, but I don’t care anymore.Without another word, I walk past him, determined to leave, to get out of this suffocating space. As I move toward the door, I hear him let out a slow, almost amused chuckle, as if he finds something about this situation funny. I don’t turn back to find out.He closes the door behind us with a soft click, and I hear the distinct sound of him grabbing my suitcase, and dragging it behind me as I walk ahead. I keep my head high, forcing myself to appear calm, to put on a brave face. Inside, though, I am a storm of emotions.I start walking toward the mansion as if I have a sense of direction as if I even know where Tristan parked his car. But the truth is, I’m just walkin
I don’t know if it’s the way he enunciates father-in-law or the way he says it, but whatever it is, I suddenly go bright red.Because he says it in a way I can’t even explain.Is it sarcastic?Is it meant to be funny?Is there some hidden meaning behind it?Or is he just being Trey—annoying, unpredictable, and impossible?The word itself is filled with ambiguity. And instead of standing there to analyze it, I do the only thing my brain tells me to do—get in the car.Fast.I don’t even wait for Trey to close the door. I slam it shut myself, so quickly that I actually startle him. He chuckles, That freaking idiot.Trey, of course, is completely unbothered. He just strolls toward the driver’s seat, casual as ever, while I sit there wishing I could get away from here faster.And then, as if this situation couldn’t get any worse, Trey salutes Emerson.Yes. Salutes.Like this is some joke like he’s enjoying himself.And still, Emerson doesn’t say a word. He just stands there, watching. Sile
I might or might not have fallen asleep in the car.Why?Because that’s what Trey said when I woke up, and I don’t trust Trey—not even a little bit.One minute, I was fuming at him, staring out the window, trying to drown him out. The next, he was shaking me awake, and I had no idea where we were. I blinked, rubbing my eyes, and took in my surroundings.We weren’t at his place. We weren’t at a hotel. And by the looks of it, Trey didn’t live in a restaurant either.“What are we doing here?” I ask, my voice groggy.Trey leans against the open car door, smirking. “I thought you could eat.”“And who told you I haven’t eaten?”He shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe your stomach—which, by the way, was growling while you were snoring.”I sit up straighter, narrowing my eyes. “I did not snore.”Trey grins. “Oh, you snore.”“I did not.”“You so did.”“Trey, just stop it, okay?” I snap. “I’m not in the mood.”He raises his hands in surrender. “Okay. But we’re still eating.”“I don’t—”“I don’t care
That morning, I woke up with a raging headache.My stomach is uneasy, and there’s this awful taste in my mouth. I groan, then rush to the bathroom.By the time I step out, I find Treyson in my room.He's holding a tray of breakfast and smiling like he belongs here.I blink. Then I look at the door. Then at him again."How did you get in?"He shrugs. "I walked through the door.""Yes, and I locked it last night. How did you get in?"He smirks and brushes off my question."Here. I brought you breakfast."I sigh and sit down on the bed. My headache is pounding."Are you okay?" he asks."No. My head is killing me. Do you have some painkillers?""Oh! I'll be right back!"He disappears and returns with painkillers and a glass of water.I take them quickly, then turn back to him."Seriously, Trey. How did you get in my bedroom?"He grins. "As I told you yesterday, this is my house. I know how to get in any door. You can’t keep me out."I stare at him."That is so creepy."He waves a hand dis
By the time we got back to Trey's penthouse, I wasn’t as furious as I had been when we left. I was still in a semi-not-good mood, but at least I wasn’t ready to throw Trey out of his own penthouse anymore. Naturally, he took advantage of my slightly better mood and started coaxing me into going to a restaurant with him for dinner. Adding that he had already made reservations.I was just about to give in when, on our way there, we passed a food truck selling burgers. And that was it for me.“I want one,” I announced.Trey groaned. “Are you serious? We’re on our way to a restaurant. Better food and better environment.”“I don’t care,” I said, already making my way toward the truck. “I’m getting a burger. Then we can go to your fancy restaurant.”He sighed heavily as if this was the greatest inconvenience of his life. But, of course, he couldn’t just sit there and watch me eat alone. So, begrudgingly, he ordered one too.And then another.And then another.By the time we were done, I tur
I slumped back into my seat, lifting the champagne glass to my lips. The music around me, the crowd below moving in with the beat. But I wasn’t paying attention anymore.Trey was still downstairs with the blonde beauty.I took another sip, then another.I didn’t know how long I sat there, lost in my own thoughts, but suddenly, my stomach twisted. I was suddenly nauseous, and before I could process it, I was on my feet, rushing toward the VIP restroom.The moment I reached the toilet sink, I started vomiting.It was relentless. I emptied everything I had eaten, my stomach lurching violently, rejecting it all. Even when there was nothing left, I kept heaving—dry, painful retches that left me gasping for air. Sweat dripped down my back, soaking my clothes, making my skin feel clammy.I was a mess.My legs gave out, and I sank onto the cold tile floor, my body trembling. I couldn’t move. My limbs felt too heavy, my mind too foggy. My mouth tasted awful, sour and bitter from the vomit, but
I go shopping and buy new clothes.Yesterday, when Trey came back from wherever he had disappeared to, he brought me a few outfits because, according to him, I didn't have any. But today, I doing the shopping. I have my own money—the money Emerson gave me for my trip—so I take myself shopping.I even go to the salon and get my hair done. My nails, too. I throw a spa day for myself, just me, a celebration of… whatever this new chapter of my life. In the evening I have dinner, and then I head towards Trey’s penthouse.I think it’s time I start looking for my own apartment. I have Emerson’s money, after all.Or, you know what? I could still go on that trip to Rio.These are the thoughts running through my head as I step into the elevator. I get off the elevator and I open the door. The moment I step inside, I freeze.I blink, processing the sight in front of me.Trey is standing right there, in the exact spot where I stood yesterday when he came home with that blonde bimbo.And he’s hold
Then, all at once, the decision is made."This is not worth it," I say, standing up so fast my chair scrapes against the floor. I’m not doing this. I don’t care about this job, this project, this entire damn company. I’m not safe here.No one stops me as I step away from my desk."People have put things in my drink," I continue, my voice growing louder. "I don’t even know if they were trying to poison me or just being assholes. I don’t know what they’re capable of. And now this?" I motion toward the broken vase. I look at Eric, who has a forced smile on his face. I know that smile, he knows he fucked up but he is not going to own up to it or apologize. "No. I’m done." I announceI turn toward Emerson. Our eyes meet. His expression is unreadable, but something flickers there—something like regret.I smile tightly, grabbing my bag. "I’m leaving."And this time, I mean it.I am out of the door and already in the parking lot, walking towards my car, ready to leave it all behind. But t
I wake up the next morning in a surprisingly good mood.And as always, when I’m in a good mood, it’s all white for me. A white suit, white shoes, and, of course, my white handbag.When I pull into the parking lot, I spot Trey right away. He’s leaning against his car, phone pressed to his ear, talking animatedly. The moment his gaze lands on me, his entire face lights up."There you go, Miss Harper," he greets, slipping his phone into his pocket. "I’ve been waiting for you. I thought since it’s my first day here, you could show me around."I arch a brow. "You don’t work for Black Wind Company, Treyson. You’re just an affiliate.""Still means I get to be here, doesn’t it?" He smirks. "Besides, don’t tell me you don’t want to see how amazing I look today."I roll my eyes, but I can’t help taking him in. He does look good—annoyingly."Well, you seem to be in a good mood," he notes.I don’t confirm or deny it. Instead, I just say, "You could say something like that."We chat as we walk in
The minute I step inside the penthouse, I close the door behind me and slump to the floor.And then, I start sobbing.I cry. And I cry. And I cry.I have no idea why the tears won’t stop falling. Maybe it’s exhaustion. Maybe it’s frustration. Maybe it’s everything catching up to me all at once.Then, suddenly—The door handle rattles.I freeze, my heart hammering. My head snaps toward the door in alarm.Then I hear Trey's voice—low, amused. A woman’s voice follows, laughing a little too much, a little too loud. And then—kissing sounds.Panic grips me.Oh God. They’re coming in here.I can’t let them find me like this. A mess. My mascara is probably streaked down my cheeks, my eyeliner smudged, my hair wild.I jump to my feet, wiping my tears in a hurry. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to smooth it down, to make myself look less like someone who was just breaking down on the floor.And then the door swings open and Trey walks in With her. The blonde beauty from the club.I sho
We were already in the parking lot. Emerson’s driver had stepped out, opening the car door for him.Then, Trey’s words came back to me.He just decides. One moment, he pushes you away and tells you to take time and think for yourself. The next, he decides you're his again. Just like that.And wasn’t that exactly what was happening?Right now, he had decided I was his girl again. Right now, I am sick, weak, and unable to stand on my own. So he was taking me home. Taking care of me. But what happens tomorrow morning when I wake up feeling fine? Will I still be his? Or will everything go back to how it was—cold, distant, uncertain?Was he doing this because he still loved me? Or was it guilt? Some sense of responsibility because he thought I couldn’t take care of myself?The more I thought about it, the more I realized something painful. Maybe Emmerson was right. Maybe I wasn’t capable of taking care of myself. I never had been. I'd never really been alone. And that scared me more than a
Silence.Trey turned to me then, really looking at me for the first time. His expression changed."Mina," he said, his voice softer. "What’s going on? Are you okay? Why didn't you call me?"I nodded weakly. "I’m okay." Which was kind of crazy, considering I wasn’t okay at all.I should have expected Trey to ask me first if I was okay, but maybe it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he was my boyfriend or anything."I think I ate something bad," I admitted. "Or I have food poisoning or something. Emerson found me and took care of me. I just need to lie down and get some water."Trey hesitated, then said, "I’ll take you to the hospital."Before I could answer, Emerson spoke for me."That’s okay," he said. "I got her.""I insist," Treyson said.Emerson looked at him, then at the blonde, who was still standing at the door, watching our exchange in silence. Then, he spoke."You seem to be a little occupied at the moment," Emerson said. "Just leave it to me. I'll take care of her. I've been tak
I slumped back into my seat, lifting the champagne glass to my lips. The music around me, the crowd below moving in with the beat. But I wasn’t paying attention anymore.Trey was still downstairs with the blonde beauty.I took another sip, then another.I didn’t know how long I sat there, lost in my own thoughts, but suddenly, my stomach twisted. I was suddenly nauseous, and before I could process it, I was on my feet, rushing toward the VIP restroom.The moment I reached the toilet sink, I started vomiting.It was relentless. I emptied everything I had eaten, my stomach lurching violently, rejecting it all. Even when there was nothing left, I kept heaving—dry, painful retches that left me gasping for air. Sweat dripped down my back, soaking my clothes, making my skin feel clammy.I was a mess.My legs gave out, and I sank onto the cold tile floor, my body trembling. I couldn’t move. My limbs felt too heavy, my mind too foggy. My mouth tasted awful, sour and bitter from the vomit, but
By the time we got back to Trey's penthouse, I wasn’t as furious as I had been when we left. I was still in a semi-not-good mood, but at least I wasn’t ready to throw Trey out of his own penthouse anymore. Naturally, he took advantage of my slightly better mood and started coaxing me into going to a restaurant with him for dinner. Adding that he had already made reservations.I was just about to give in when, on our way there, we passed a food truck selling burgers. And that was it for me.“I want one,” I announced.Trey groaned. “Are you serious? We’re on our way to a restaurant. Better food and better environment.”“I don’t care,” I said, already making my way toward the truck. “I’m getting a burger. Then we can go to your fancy restaurant.”He sighed heavily as if this was the greatest inconvenience of his life. But, of course, he couldn’t just sit there and watch me eat alone. So, begrudgingly, he ordered one too.And then another.And then another.By the time we were done, I tur
That morning, I woke up with a raging headache.My stomach is uneasy, and there’s this awful taste in my mouth. I groan, then rush to the bathroom.By the time I step out, I find Treyson in my room.He's holding a tray of breakfast and smiling like he belongs here.I blink. Then I look at the door. Then at him again."How did you get in?"He shrugs. "I walked through the door.""Yes, and I locked it last night. How did you get in?"He smirks and brushes off my question."Here. I brought you breakfast."I sigh and sit down on the bed. My headache is pounding."Are you okay?" he asks."No. My head is killing me. Do you have some painkillers?""Oh! I'll be right back!"He disappears and returns with painkillers and a glass of water.I take them quickly, then turn back to him."Seriously, Trey. How did you get in my bedroom?"He grins. "As I told you yesterday, this is my house. I know how to get in any door. You can’t keep me out."I stare at him."That is so creepy."He waves a hand dis