Chapter 3

The doorman at Alex's building greeted me with his usual polite nod, unaware that my world had tilted on its axis.

The private elevator whisked me up to the penthouse, a place that had never truly felt like home.

I used my key, the silence inside heavy.

Then I heard a faint sound from the master bedroom, a low murmur.

I walked towards it, my heart pounding.

The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open.

Jessica Vance was there, lounging on Alex's bed, wearing my silk robe, the one Alex had bought me in Paris.

She looked up, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Sarah. What a surprise."

Alex walked out of the en-suite bathroom, a towel around his waist. He stopped short when he saw me.

"Sarah? What are you doing here?"

He actually looked surprised, then annoyed.

"I came to get my things," I said, my voice tight.

"This isn't a good time," he said, glancing at Jessica. "Jessica was just... helping me with some work."

Helping him with work, in my robe, in his bed.

The rage I'd been suppressing surged. "Is that what you call it?" I pointed at the robe. "She looks very comfortable in my clothes, Alex."

Jessica stretched languidly. "It's just a robe, darling. Don't be so dramatic."

Alex stepped forward. "Sarah, you're making a scene. Jessica is a guest. You should apologize to her."

Apologize, he wanted me to apologize.

The sheer, unadulterated nerve of it.

"Apologize?" I laughed, a harsh, broken sound. "You want me to apologize for walking in on my boyfriend and his COO in a compromising position, with her wearing my clothes?"

His face hardened. "I told you, she was helping me. You're overreacting."

"Overreacting?" I looked from his cold eyes to Jessica's triumphant smirk. "No, Alex. I think I'm finally reacting appropriately."

"You need to calm down," he said, his voice taking on that familiar condescending tone.

"I am calm," I said, though my hands were shaking. "I'm just done. Completely and utterly done."

I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm.

"We're not finished talking about this."

"Oh, I think we are," I said, pulling my arm free. "I'm going to pack. And then I'm leaving. For good."

I walked past him, into the guest room I'd always used, the one that felt more like a nicely furnished prison cell.

He didn't follow. He probably went back to Jessica.

The power imbalance was stark, he was the sun, and everyone else merely revolved around him, or got burned.

But I wasn't going to be burned anymore. I was getting out of his orbit.