Chapter 3

It was nine o'clock at night. The startup office was dead quiet. The open-plan desks were empty, bathed in the orange glow of the streetlights outside. Only the glass box of Fletcher's office was fully illuminated.

Dani didn't knock. She pushed the heavy glass door open and walked right in. She carried a steaming ceramic mug.

Fletcher was pinching the bridge of his nose. He stared at a complex spreadsheet on his monitor. He dropped his hand and glared at her. The intrusion made his jaw tick.

Dani ignored his cold stare. She walked around his desk and set the mug down right next to his keyboard. She leaned forward. The top two buttons of her Zara blouse were undone, exposing her collarbone.

"Chamomile tea," Dani said softly. Her voice dripped with exaggerated admiration. "I was looking at the backend code you pushed today. It's literally like art, Fletcher."

Fletcher stared at her. His eyes were dead. He didn't say a word. He simply grabbed the armrests of his chair and rolled himself backward, putting two feet of distance between them.

Dani bit her lower lip. A flash of irritation crossed her eyes. She placed both hands flat on his desk and leaned in further, refusing to give up the space.

Suddenly, the phone on Fletcher's desk vibrated violently.

The screen lit up. A FaceTime request. The caller ID read: Elodie.

Dani's eyes darted to the screen. Her jaw tightened with instant jealousy. She didn't step back. She stayed exactly where she was, hovering over his workspace.

Fletcher picked up the phone. He didn't hesitate. He swiped the green button.

Elodie's face filled the screen. She was lying in bed, wearing a dark green silk pajama top. Her blonde hair was loose against the pillows. She opened her mouth to speak, a soft smile forming on her lips.

Then, her eyes flicked to the background of the video.

The smile vanished. Her features hardened into stone.

She saw Dani. She saw the unbuttoned blouse. She saw how close the girl was standing to Fletcher's chair.

Dani leaned into the frame. She waved her fingers at the camera.

"Hi, Elodie!" Dani chirped. Her voice was sickeningly sweet.

Elodie didn't even blink at Dani. Her piercing blue eyes locked directly onto Fletcher's through the screen.

"Are you busy?" Elodie asked. Her voice was pure ice.

Fletcher looked at the screen. He saw the raw, burning jealousy in Elodie's eyes. A dark, unreadable expression flickered across his face for a fraction of a second. Before anyone could decipher the intense shift in his eyes, he masked it completely, his features settling into a wall of pure indifference.

"Just running some data," Fletcher said flatly. He didn't look at Dani. "Dani, get out. I need to take this."

Dani's fake smile shattered. Her face flushed a deep, angry red. She spun around and marched out of the office, letting the glass door slam shut behind her.

Elodie sat up in bed. The silk sheets rustled.

"Why is your subordinate in your office dressed like that at nine in the night?" Elodie demanded. Her voice shook slightly.

"It's a startup. We work late," Fletcher replied. His tone was dismissive. Bored.

Elodie's shoulders slumped. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She couldn't fight his brick wall of apathy through a screen.

"Right. Goodnight, Fletcher," she whispered, and ended the call.

Half an hour later, Fletcher shut down his computer. He turned off the office lights and walked down the rusty stairs. He stepped out into the cool Brooklyn night and walked toward the dark, narrow alley where he parked.

He reached the sleek, Aston Martin sports car. He pulled the handle.

Before he could open the door, a shadow darted from the front of the car.

The passenger door was yanked open. Elodie slid into the leather seat. She was wearing a long trench coat over her silk pajamas. She brought the freezing night air in with her.

Fletcher froze. He stared at her through the windshield. He quickly got into the driver's seat and slammed the door.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded. His brow furrowed in genuine confusion.

Elodie didn't answer. She unbuckled her seatbelt. In one fluid motion, she climbed over the center console. She straddled his lap, her knees pressing into the leather seat on either side of his hips.

Standing in the shadows of the alley, hidden behind a dumpster, Dani watched. Her eyes widened in shock.

Inside the car, Elodie grabbed Fletcher's face with both hands. She leaned down and kissed him. It wasn't romantic. It was territorial. She bit his lower lip hard enough to make him gasp.

Fletcher's hands instinctively came up to push her away. But the moment his palms touched her waist, his fingers dug into the fabric of her coat. He groaned, a low, guttural sound, and pulled her flush against his chest.

The kiss deepened into something frantic and consuming. The heat radiating from their bodies quickly fogged up the windows of the sports car, turning the glass into a hazy white blur.

Outside in the cold alley, Dani stared at the shaking car. Her chest heaved. She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands until the skin broke, drawing tiny drops of blood.