The soft afternoon light filtered through towering windows, warming the sleek marble floors of Carter Group's executive office. From the outside, it looked like a kingdom: polished stone, tinted glass, everything deliberate and precise—just like its ruler.
Inside, Chloe Carter sat behind her desk. Her tailored ivory blouse hugged her figure perfectly, the top button left open to reveal a delicate gold chain resting against her collarbone. A high-waisted silk skirt in muted emerald green brushed her knees, paired with Louboutin heels sharp enough to slice through marble.
Her hair was pinned in a sleek knot at the nape of her neck, a few strands falling artfully loose. Makeup flawless. Nails shaped to a sharp almond, lacquered a deep wine-red.
Her fingers moved smoothly over her Apple laptop's keyboard. Not hurried—deliberate. Calculating. A woman with a plan.
A knock broke the rhythm.
The glass door clicked open, and Lylah stepped in, holding her tablet close. Her black pencil skirt and white blouse were simple but polished, matching her calm, professional tone.
"Ma'am, you have a visitor."
Chloe didn't look up. "Who?"
Lylah hesitated, glancing briefly at her tablet. "She didn't give a name. But she insisted it's urgent."
Chloe's eyes flicked up now, sharp and slightly narrowed. "Let her in."
Lylah gave a polite nod and stepped back out.
A few moments later, the door opened again. This time, it wasn't just business walking in.
It was history.
Nadia.
She wore a fitted red dress, cinched at the waist, simple but striking. Her hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, her eyes already glassy with tears she hadn't yet let fall.
"Hi, Chloe," Nadia said softly.
The temperature in the room dropped.
Chloe closed her laptop slowly and stood. Her expression didn't flinch. Her voice, when it came, was smooth and cutting.
"What the hell are you doing here, Nadia?"
Nadia swallowed hard. Her voice shook. "I… I needed to see you."
Chloe stepped from behind her desk with the quiet grace of a cat deciding whether to pounce.
"You have the guts to walk into my office, into my building, after what you did?"
Her voice wasn't raised. It didn't need to be. It hit like ice water to the face.
"I had to," Nadia whispered, eyes shining. "Please, I can explain."
Chloe's laugh was soft and bitter, the kind that carried more weight than a scream.
"Explain?" she repeated, tilting her head. Her gold earrings caught the light. "Explain how you spent months sneaking behind my back? Sleeping with Ryan like I wasn't even real?"
Nadia opened her mouth, but Chloe cut her off.
"Don't," Chloe snapped, her voice dropping lower, colder. "Don't give me that 'I didn't mean to' garbage. You knew what you were doing the moment you let him touch you."
Nadia's lips trembled. "I swear, Chloe, I thought you and Ryan… I thought you'd broken up. That's what he told me."
Chloe's jaw tightened. She took a slow, measured step closer.
"Nadia," she said quietly, dangerously calm, "you and I shared everything. Secrets. Stories. Late-night calls. And you want me to believe I wouldn't tell you if I ended things with Ryan?"
She was standing directly in front of Nadia now, the scent of her signature Tom Ford perfume threading through the space between them—rich, unmistakable.
Nadia couldn't hold her gaze. Her eyes dropped to the marble floor.
"I made a mistake," Nadia whispered.
Chloe's expression sharpened like glass.
"No, Nadia. You made a choice."
Her voice broke just slightly now—not weak, but raw.
"I trusted you. I treated you like a sister. And you—" Chloe's lips curled, voice tightening, "you stabbed me in the back while wearing my dresses and drinking my wine."
That landed like a slap.
Nadia's tears finally broke free, running hot down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she said again, voice cracking. "Chloe, please. Tell me what I can do. Tell me how I can make it up to you."
Chloe stepped back, running a hand through her sleek hair, letting out a slow breath.
"You want to know how you can make it up to me?"
Nadia nodded quickly, desperate.
Chloe's eyes went dead cold.
"Go to hell. Maybe that'll be a good start."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Chloe walked back to her desk, the click of her heels echoing in the glass-walled office. She sank into her chair with slow, deliberate poise, reopening her laptop.
Nadia didn't move.
"Please," Nadia whispered again. "I… I can't stand knowing I hurt you like this."
Chloe didn't even look up. Her fingers tapped calmly against the keyboard.
"You disgust me, Nadia," she said flatly. "The smell of your cheap perfume, your knockoff earrings… everything about you makes me sick."
Nadia clutched her arms around herself as though physically bracing for the words.
"I should call security right now," Chloe added. Her hand moved toward the office phone. "You leave on your own, or I'll have them drag you out."
"No!" Nadia cried suddenly, her voice breaking into a sob. "Please, Chloe. I'm not leaving until you hear me out!"
Chloe's jaw flexed. Her patience had officially burned out.
She picked up the phone and dialed a number.
"This is Ms. Carter. I need you in my office right now," she said smoothly. "There's a rodent I want removed."
Nadia's breath caught. Her face crumpled in shame.
That word—rodent—hit harder than anything else.
Nadia backed away slowly, her tears falling freely now, pooling against her dress.
Chloe didn't speak again. She simply watched, ice-cold and silent, as Nadia turned toward the door.
Her hand reached the handle when Chloe's voice cut through the air one last time.
"And, Nadia."
Nadia paused, head bowed.
"Remember to return my shopping bags," Chloe said evenly. "They're worth more than the betrayal you turned out to be."
Nadia's voice broke around the lump in her throat. "I wasn't going to keep them. I'll have them delivered by the end of the day."
Without another word, Nadia stepped through the door and was gone.
For a moment, Chloe didn't move. Her hand hovered over her keyboard, but no keys were pressed.
Her heart twisted, tight and sharp, but she refused to let it show.
Lylah stepped into the office quietly a few seconds later. "Ma'am? Is everything okay?"
Chloe didn't look up. "Close the door."
"Yes, ma'am."
When the room was quiet again, Chloe's phone vibrated softly.
A message.
She glanced down—and froze.
It was an invitation. Elevate Strategic Group.
An event unlike any she'd seen in months. No sender. No signature. But authentic. Real.
Her pulse quickened.
"What the hell…" she murmured under her breath, eyes narrowing as she studied the digital card on her screen.
She stood slowly, picking up her phone, and without another word, walked out of her office, her heels striking the marble with quiet finality.
The story wasn't finished. Not yet.