Seven words

's lungs-thick, swollen clouds bruised purple and black, pressing low over the crooked st

didn't noti

o her face. Her breath came in sharp bursts, not from exhaustion, but from the cold, metallic fear rattling around in

enty-eighth floor, her fiancé w

ng, he had sworn-s

d felt something sna

inished excuses. The sudden urge for privacy. The dismissive ki

lt: a message he meant

one

uspect anyth

she crossed the lobby marble, leaving

her fury. Her reflection stared back at her in the mirrored walls-eyes sharp, tre

or, the office was quiet-too quiet, the kind that sett

ry light was off except one: his office, glowing an ugly yellow through the

hammered i

more

o

re

t bother

the door open, the un

een caught stealing souls from the underworld. His tie hung half-loosened, his hair a little too messy, and worst

en, shirt half-buttoned-was Tessa Hayes, the company's golden-girl accou

t, none of

iolently outside it

loud. It was silent, stunning. It was the moment she realized every argument, every late night, every

ep toward her-wr

sten-thi

r voice sounded calm,

the slow-motion car crash happening in front of her

aze slid

ave," she s

he grabbed her purse and brushed past, muttering some wea

was just the

rc

Ma

relationship lying in

is hair. "Mara, I swear to you-

were about to screw one of your employees on your desk. I

always happened whe

just-sit down,

er voice low. "You don't get to ask me fo

rning the office whit

o cut skin. "After we planned a wedding. After you told

up," he

"Marcus, 'messing up' is forgetti

t speak.

ring silence, something n

sadn

eartb

thing ha

liberate, curling ar

from her face, and stared Marcus down with a cl

over," she s

Mara, please-what a

st smile. The kind that

the hell

alone in the wreckage he created-completely una