Chapter 4

I was walking back from the cafe, a warm cup in my hand, when I saw her. Chloe swept out of the elevator like she owned the place, a gust of cloying, sweet perfume announcing her arrival before she did. She was wearing a dress that was completely unprofessional for a corporate office-too short, too tight, clinging to her body in a way that was calculated to draw attention.

She spotted Mark, who was talking to the firm' s CEO, a powerful and deeply ethical man named Mr. Davies. Mr. Davies was a long-time admirer of my work and my former mentor. Chloe didn't seem to care.

She walked right up to them, interrupting their conversation without a hint of apology.

"Mark, honey, I brought you a latte," she cooed, holding up a cup. She completely ignored Mr. Davies. "You must be so stressed, fixing poor Ava's mess."

Mark' s face tightened with embarrassment. Mr. Davies, a man who valued professionalism above all else, raised an eyebrow. The air grew thick with awkwardness.

"Chloe," Mark said through a tight smile. "This is Mr. Davies. We're in the middle of something."

Chloe finally turned to the CEO, giving him a flirty, dismissive smile. "Oh, hi. Don't worry, I won't be long. I just needed to give my brother-in-law a little boost."

Just then, a commotion came from down the hall, near the West Wing conference room. An accountant, a woman named Sarah, came rushing out, her face pale with panic.

"He can't breathe! Mr. Henderson can't breathe! His EpiPen isn't working!"

The situation had clearly escalated. The low-level emergency had become a crisis.

Sarah ran towards the small kitchenette area near the conference rooms. "I need to get him some water, maybe elevate his legs-"

Chloe, who was standing directly in the path to the kitchenette, didn't move. She took a slow, deliberate sip of her own latte, looking annoyed that her dramatic entrance had been upstaged.

"Can you excuse me?" Sarah said, her voice frantic. "It's an emergency."

Chloe looked her up and down with disdain. "Calm down. You're making a scene. Someone's probably already called 911."

"I need to get through," Sarah insisted, trying to step around her.

Chloe shifted her weight, blocking her again. "And I need you to lower your voice. You're stressing Mark out."

It was a stunning display of self-centeredness. A man was potentially dying just a few feet away, and Chloe's only concern was Mark's stress level and her own perceived importance.

Sarah, a professional trying to do the right thing, was visibly frustrated. The conflict was stark: a person trying to render aid versus a person creating an obstruction for the most trivial, selfish reasons.

Chloe seemed to enjoy the attention. She turned her back on Sarah and looked pleadingly at Mark, her voice taking on a whiny, childlike tone.

"Mark, make her go away. She's being so loud."

She was seeking his protection, trying to leverage their inappropriate relationship to escape any responsibility for her own bad behavior. In the past, Mark would have placated her, pulling her aside and smoothing things over.

But Mr. Davies was watching. His expression was now one of cold, undisguised disapproval.

I stood perfectly still, watching the scene unfold from a safe distance. This was it. The nexus point. This was the moment where Chloe's character, and Mark's, would be laid bare for everyone to see. And I didn't have to do a thing but watch.