Chapter 2

I spent thirty days confined to the ICU. Long enough to learn the names and backstories of every patient in that sterile hallway. Long enough to realize no one was coming for me.

The nurses grew used to my silence. One of them, a young redhead with kind eyes, finally asked, “Sweetheart, where’s your family?”

I didn’t answer.

Because what could I say?

Dalton never showed. Not once.

And the excruciating pain in my legs reminded me again and again—this wasn’t some twisted nightmare I could wake up from.

When I was finally discharged, I signed my own release papers with trembling hands.

No flowers. No visitors. No warm arms waiting outside.

Just me. Alone.

I took a cab straight to the Wrenley Group headquarters, the very company where I’d poured years of blood, sweat, and designs.

But when I swiped my employee badge at the main entrance, the scanner blinked red.

“Access denied.”

A security guard gave me a sheepish look. “Sorry, miss, your credentials were revoked last week.”

“What?” I asked, blinking.

Before I could react, the intercom at the front desk crackled. A voice I recognized all too well chimed in, sugar-coated and smug.

“Sorry, sweetie. Dalton’s just being extra careful these days… says he can’t have just anyone strolling in.”

Mariah Sutton.

I should’ve been angry. Instead, I laughed. Low and bitter.

I pressed the button for the 23rd floor.

As I stepped into the elevator, I could feel the stares, the hungry eyes of people who lived off gossip and scandal.

An old colleague of mine, Janice, whispered to someone beside her, but loud enough for me to hear, “She really fired all the other assistants and installed herself as Queen of the Castle.”

“Isn’t she, like, a violinist or something?” another chimed in. “What the hell is she doing at an architecture firm?”

“Playing violin in his office like she’s starring in some tragic soap opera,” Janice snorted. “This is a design firm, not America’s Got Talent.”

“If Mr. Wrenley Sr. were still alive, he’d never have let this happen,” someone else muttered.

“She’s only here because of Tavia,” another voice said. “Tavia’s work kept this company afloat.”

The elevator doors opened, and their voices fell silent. I didn’t need their pity or their loyalty. I just needed closure.

When I pushed open Dalton’s office door, I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t.

Mariah was sprawling across his lap, her white designer dress bunched up around her waist, her hand guiding his to her chest like they were the only two people in the world.

My stomach churned. Something inside me snapped.

Dalton jumped like he’d seen a ghost. “What the hell, Tavia? Why didn’t you knock?!”

He scrambled to his feet, throwing his jacket over Mariah like that would somehow erase what I’d just seen.

She whimpered dramatically, curling into his chest. “Dalton… I forgot to answer your call earlier.”

My voice came out too calm. “I did call you. She answered.”

“I forgot, Dalton,” she said sweetly. “You won’t be mad at me, will you?”

“Of course not,” he cooed. “She almost ruined the surprise.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “I wasn’t the one half-naked in your office.”

“She said her chest hurt. I was checking on her. Don’t make a scene over nothing.” Dalton sounded annoyed now, like I was the problem.

He glanced at my legs with something close to suspicion. “Didn’t the doctor say you needed rest? Why are you even here?”

I walked forward, ignoring the sharp stab of pain with every step, and dropped a folder onto his desk.

“I’m here to hand in my resignation.”

He blinked. “What? Why? You’ve still got open projects.”

“They’re done,” I said flatly. “Check the files.”

Before he could reach for them, Mariah snatched the folder and flipped through the contents. A slow smirk spread across her face.

“Well, no wonder,” she scoffed. “You designed a center for the hearing impaired? That explains the pitiful budget.”

Dalton’s jaw clenched. Even he looked uncomfortable at that.

I stared her down; my voice was like ice. “That ‘pitiful’ project is pro bono. For children who can’t afford better.”

Her smile faltered.

And for the first time in a long while, I felt something like pride flicker back to life in my chest.

I wasn’t the one who should be ashamed.

They were.