Chapter 6

At two in the morning, the penthouse was completely silent.

Arianna lay flat on her back on the right side of the king-sized bed. Her eyes were wide open, staring at the dark ceiling. She hadn't slept a single minute.

She listened carefully to the space beside her. Gregory's breathing was deep, heavy, and rhythmic.

To be absolutely sure, she rolled over. She let her arm fall heavily across his chest.

Gregory grunted softly in his sleep, shifting his weight, but his eyes remained shut. He was deeply under.

Arianna slowly pulled her arm back. She pushed the silk duvet off her legs, moving so slowly the fabric didn't make a sound.

She slipped out of bed. Her bare feet sank into the plush carpet.

She walked around the foot of the bed, moving like a predator in the dark, until she reached his nightstand.

His iPhone was sitting on the wireless charging pad.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked it up. She pressed the side button.

The harsh blue light of the lock screen flared in the darkness. It felt blinding.

Arianna quickly cupped her hand over the top edge of the phone, shielding the light from hitting Gregory's face.

She swiped up. The keypad appeared.

She typed in her own birthday. It was the passcode he had used for years. He was so arrogant, so confident in her blind trust, that he hadn't even bothered to change it.

The phone unlocked.

She bypassed his emails and went straight to the iMessage app.

She scrolled past the group chats with the board members. Her eyes locked onto a conversation thread saved under the name 'Art Dept - Project K'. The innocuous label might have fooled anyone else, but Arianna's mind was a steel trap for company data. She knew for a fact that the Art Department had no initiatives operating under the codename 'Project K'. The most recent message had come in at 1:30 AM.

She tapped the thread.

The first thing she saw was a cartoon sticker of a crying bear.

My bed is so cold tonight. I need a hug, the text read.

Gregory had replied with a ten-second audio message.

Arianna couldn't play it. The sound would wake him. She scrolled up, her thumb swiping quickly over the screen.

A photo loaded. It was Cristy. She was taking a mirror selfie in a cramped apartment bathroom, wearing a sheer black lace slip.

Do you like the new outfit? she had texted.

Gregory's reply made Arianna's throat close up.

You're a fucking menace. I wish I was there right now.

Arianna's grip on the phone tightened until the metal edges bit painfully into her palms. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead.

She forced herself to keep scrolling. She needed to see everything.

The conversation shifted to the office.

Arianna was such a bitch in the UI meeting today, Cristy wrote. She acts like a robot.

Gregory's response sat there in stark blue bubbles.

Let her be a robot. All she knows how to do is code. Trust me, she's just as stiff and boring in bed. Just ignore her.

Arianna bit down on her lower lip so hard she tasted the sharp, metallic tang of blood. Her chest heaved. She wanted to smash the phone into his sleeping face.

She reached into the pocket of her silk pajama pants and pulled out her own phone.

She opened the camera, making sure the flash and sound were completely disabled.

She held her phone over his screen. She took a picture of the lingerie photo. She took a picture of his mocking texts. She scrolled and snapped, capturing every disgusting word.

When she had over thirty photos, she swiped out of the app. She locked his phone and placed it exactly as she found it on the charging pad.