THE BILLIONAIRE'S PHOENIX

g precautions we've already gone over a dozen times. I absently trace the outline of a floral motif on my sketchpad w

on the other end. "Just promise me you'll

econd if anything goes even slightly off-plan." He concedes, saying he knows I can handle myself, but that his big-brother mode can't help but activate every tim

a flash of bright pink catches my eye. I look up to see Barbara Gills, the head of PR, making a beeline for my work area. H

" she asks, her eyes flicking down to the

. "The initial designs for the Winter Couture collection are moving

is just a month away! We are really tight on time, and since you are going to be the

Barbara," I joke, and she let

yti

e has been exceedingly nice to me. Of course, it helps that I'm the designer the legendary Director Dahlia J

sparse office. "Where is your assistant? I

ve one," I

and flying to her chest. "O

rking alone. Fewer distractions." It's only half

well," she says, slightly flustered. "You keep doing your job, and I'll head back to mine." With a fi

intensity. My fingers fly across the keyboard, and with a few quick clicks, I pull up a hidden taskbar on my desktop. A grid

feed from Etha

as almost too easy; a fake gas leak complaint from a "concerned neighbor" was all it took to lure the housekeepers out for the afternoon. Slipping insid

Ethan isn't there. His parents are safely away on their vacation to the Maldives, and Agnes... that mistress... is nowhere to be seen. Of course, she isn't. She's pr

cold, runs through me. Is he still on edge? Is he jumping at shadows, his mind replaying that moment in the dark over and over?

will make sure the encounter traumatizes him for a week. I have plans for Ag

er, angrier part demands more. They can't just end. They need to feel the exact,

helplessness of that day five years ago. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, a ph

up my pencil, my movements becoming swift and precise. I lose myself in the w

ve a meeting with Ethan. And the gh

Since I can't very well walk in with my own face, I've had to become someone else. The people

to be said as old money, a stately five-story structure of sandstone and glass, more like a grand private club than a cold steel tower. I catch my refle

. Five. It seems Ethan has developed a taste for unn

elp you?" she asks, her sm

e clipped as I push my sunglasses up to rest on top of m

just give me a

K, her phone conveniently "lost" after a minor but chaotic spill of a coffee, her wallet and identification temporarily misplaced in the ensuing confusion. I was the one to plan it a

place. "Miss Diaz, please wait one moment wh

be quick. My schedule is packed." I don't know Beatrice personally, but my rese

hangs up. "You may go up now. I c

I can't tell her I know the way better than she does. That I used to walk these halls, bringing a lovingly p

out into a hallway lined with archival photos of the company's history. She g

here. Thank you,"

ator. I wait, listening to the faint whir of its descent.

irect, too easily dismissed as another hallucination. No, this is about subtle

er set he received as a wedding gift-our wedding gift. My fingers tucked inside my blazer pocket brush against the small, delicate vial. It contains a concentrated tincture of a specific,

a drink later, the world around him will slowly begin to warp. He won't collapse or convulse. No,