Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I type out a response with fumbling fingers. It’s late and snowing really hard here. Any way this can wait until tomorrow?
I wait anxiously for Tyler’s reply, hoping against hope that he’ll agree to postpone this dreaded meeting. But my phone buzzes almost immediately with his response:
This can’t wait. I’ll send a car for you. Be ready in thirty minutes.
My heart sinks. There’s no escaping this confrontation. I glance out the window at the swirling snow, then back at my phone. The thought of leaving the safety of my house terrifies me, but the prospect of losing my job is equally frightening. I try to call Sloane but don’t get an answer, so text her as well. Nothing. She wasn’t planning on dealing with this until tomorrow. But clearly Tyler doesn’t want to wait until then. And who knows what he’ll do if I don’t show?
With shaking hands, I start to get ready. I change into more professional attire, trying to project an air of confidence I certainly don’t feel. As I apply a touch of makeup, I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at me looks haunted, her eyes wide with what appears to be fear and uncertainty.
The sound of a car horn outside makes me jump. I peer through the curtains to see a sleek black town car idling in my driveway, its headlights cutting through the falling snow.
Taking a deep breath, I grab my coat and purse. I hesitate at the door, my hand on the knob. Part of me wants to barricade myself inside, to hide from the world and all its complications. But I know I can’t. I have to face this. Stick with the plan that I made with Sloane. It’s my only shot.
As I step outside, the icy wind whips at my face. I hurry to the car, my feet crunching through the fresh snow. The driver, a stoic-faced man in a dark suit, opens the door for me without a word.
Once inside the warm interior of the car, I lean back against the leather seat, trying to calm my racing heart. The city lights blur past the window as we make our way through the storm-swept streets. With each passing minute, we draw closer to the office—and to whatever consequences await me there.
I close my eyes, trying to prepare myself for what’s to come. But all I can see is Jack’s face, his eyes full of desperation as he tried to explain his actions. I shake my head, pushing the image away. I can’t think about Jack now. I need to focus on saving my career.
As the car pulls up to the office building, I see a lone figure standing in the lobby, silhouetted against the bright interior lights. Tyler. Waiting for me.
The driver opens my door, and I step out into the swirling snow. Each step toward the building feels like I’m walking to my own execution. But I straighten my spine, lift my chin, and push forward. Whatever happens in there, I’ll face it head-on.
The glass doors slide open, and I step inside. Tyler’s eyes lock onto mine, his expression unreadable.
“Chloe,” he says, his voice cold and professional. “Let’s talk in my office.”
I follow Tyler to the elevator, my nerves silently screaming for me to stop. The ride up to his office feels interminable, the silence between us thick with tension. When we finally reach his floor, he leads me down the darkened hallway, our footsteps echoing in the empty building.
Tyler unlocks his office door and gestures for me to enter. As I step inside, I notice he’s left the overhead lights off, with only his desk lamp illuminating the room. The city lights twinkle beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the snowstorm creating a surreal, muffled atmosphere.
“Sit,” Tyler commands, pointing to the chair in front of his desk.
I lower myself into the seat, trying to keep my composure. Tyler remains standing, looming over me, his face half in shadow.
“So,” he begins, his voice low and controlled. “Dark Secrets. Quite an interesting hobby you have there, Chloe.”
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “Sloane told me about your wild accusation about me. And I want you to know that if you drop this now I won’t go to Jasmine and—”
He holds up a hand, silencing me. “Stop. I’ve seen it all. Every post, every video, every . . . interaction.” He spits out the last word like it’s poison.
“To assume it’s me is—”
“It’s you. I’m not an idiot. So stop with your innocent act.” He smirks. “But if you want to go to Jasmine, fine by me. I’m sure she’ll love seeing those videos of you.”
“You don’t have proof, and your accusations are—”
He rolls his eyes. “How long are we going to play this game? Bored yet? It’s you. Anyone—including Jasmine—will see that. Not to mention you were wearing a necklace that was signed out by you and only you while you were rubbing your fingers all over your bare breasts. Sloane should have thought about deleting your name from the portal when she made up that pathetic lie.”