Chapter 2

I returned to my desk, my mind racing. I couldn' t just sit and wait. I started packing my bag, shoving my laptop, notebooks, and pens inside with clumsy, hurried movements. My hands were still shaking.

The main elevator dinged.

My head snapped up. My heart leaped into my throat. My brothers couldn't be here already. It had only been five minutes.

I watched the door to our office suite, my breath held tight in my chest. The handle didn' t turn. Of course. I had locked it. I let out a shaky breath. It was probably just a cleaning crew or a security guard.

Then, I heard a soft knock.

"Hello?" a voice called from the other side. It was a man's voice, smooth and friendly. "Is anyone in there? The security guard said an architect was working late."

I stayed silent, my body frozen.

"I just wanted to make sure everything was okay," the voice continued, dripping with false concern. "It's pretty late for a woman to be all alone in a big building like this."

[He' s so smooth. The perfect gentleman.]

[She' s not answering. Playing hard to get.]

The comments appeared again, floating near the door. My stomach twisted. It was him. It was Mark Johnson.

I remained still, hoping he would just give up and leave. But the knocking came again, a little more insistent this time.

"Miss? I saw your light on. I' m not trying to bother you, I promise. My name is Mark. I just get worried, you know?"

I had to get rid of him. I couldn't let him know I was scared. I walked to the door, my posture straight, and spoke through the wood. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm just finishing up."

"Oh, great! I'm glad to hear that," he said, his voice oozing relief. "Listen, I know this is forward, but I was just leaving myself. I'd feel a lot better if I could walk you to your car or a taxi. It' s no trouble at all, really."

This was it. The "chivalry challenge." The words from my screen echoed in my head.

I had to play it smart. Antagonizing him might make things worse. I decided on a polite but firm refusal.

"That's very kind of you, but my brothers are on their way to pick me up," I said, unlocking the door and opening it just a few inches, keeping the security chain latched.

He was exactly as he appeared in his videos. Tall, handsome, with a perfectly crafted smile and kind eyes that didn't seem kind at all up close. He was holding his phone up, angled slightly downwards, but trying to be subtle about it. He was filming.

"Oh," he said, his smile faltering for a split second. "Well, that's great. Safety in numbers." He recovered quickly. "I'm Mark, by the way." He stuck his hand through the gap, offering it to me.

I ignored it. "I know who you are. And I'm not interested in being in one of your videos."

His smile tightened. "It's not just a video. It's about sending a positive message. About men stepping up and being gentlemen."

"I don't need a gentleman," I said, my voice colder than I intended. "I need to finish my work. So if you'll excuse me."

While I was talking, I surreptitiously pressed the volume down button on my phone three times in quick succession. It was a silent panic signal I' d set up with my brothers, sending them my live location and a pre-written emergency text.

[She' s feisty. I like it.]

[Mark, don' t let her get away with that tone. Put her in her place.]

The comments were getting more aggressive.

Mark's charming facade was starting to crack. He tried to lean a bit closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Look, Sarah. I know you're an architect at Miller & Hayes. I know you' ve been working on the new Horizon Tower project. You're incredibly talented."

A chill went down my spine. He knew my name. He knew where I worked.

"How do you know that?" I asked, my hand tightening on the door.

"I'm an admirer," he said with a wink, as if that was a perfectly normal explanation. He reached out, his fingers brushing against my arm on the door. "A woman as brilliant and beautiful as you shouldn't be walking home alone."

His touch felt like an electric shock, invasive and wrong. I snatched my arm back as if burned.

"Don't touch me," I said, my voice sharp.

I slammed the door shut, the chain catching with a loud rattle. I leaned against it, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I heard him sigh on the other side. "Alright, Sarah. Alright. I'll leave you alone."

I heard his footsteps retreat down the hallway. I waited, listening, until the sound faded completely and the elevator dinged in the distance.

He was gone. For now.