The next morning, a company-wide email went out.

Subject: New Brand Direction - Serena Chase.

Vivian read it on her phone. She had been assigned as the "liaison" for the transition. It was a punishment. Julian wanted to rub her nose in it, or maybe he just thought she was the only one efficient enough to handle the logistics.

She entered the boardroom for the strategy meeting at 10:00 AM.

The smell hit her immediately. Stale coffee. Old donuts. And over it all, a heavy, cloying scent of lilies.

Her stomach lurched violently.

She swallowed hard, grabbing a bottle of ice water from the center of the table. She sat in the corner, as far away from the food as possible.

Julian entered with Serena.

Serena was glowing. She wore a white dress that looked suspiciously bridal. She acted the gracious winner, smiling at everyone.

Vivian, darling, so good of you to help, Serena cooed, placing a hand on Vivian's shoulder.

Vivian nodded, afraid to open her mouth. If she spoke, she might vomit.

The Product Manager stood up. "We have the new perfume samples for the 'Serena' line."

He passed around test strips.

One scent was heavy musk and vanilla. It was Serena's signature scent.

Serena picked one up and waved it enthusiastically. "Oh, Jay, smell this! It's divine." She thrust the scented strip toward Julian, but in her excitement, she waved it right under Vivian's nose as she turned.

The smell was thick, oily, suffocating.

It triggered her gag reflex instantly.

Vivian clamped a hand over her mouth. She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

Excuse me, she mumbled.

She rushed out of the room. She ran down the hallway.

She barely made it to the executive washroom. She kicked open a stall and fell to her knees.

She vomited until there was nothing left but acid.

She sat on the cold tile floor, shaking. She flushed the toilet and rinsed her mouth at the sink.

She heard footsteps.

Vivian?

It was Julian. He was standing at the entrance of the bathroom. The door was propped open.

He frowned. He looked at her pale face, the sweat on her forehead. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Are you sick? he asked.

Vivian gripped the porcelain sink. Her knuckles were white. She knew he was remembering her "hypothetical" question from yesterday.

It's stress, she said. Her voice was raspy. "An ulcer. My doctor gave me medication for it."

Julian didn't look convinced. He stared at her.

Vivian reached into her pocket. Her hand trembled as she pulled out the bottle she had labeled "Ulcer."

She shook a pill into her hand-a prenatal vitamin that looked like a generic capsule-and swallowed it dry, right in front of him.

She held up the bottle so he could see the handwritten label.

See? she rasped. "Just an ulcer."

Julian read the label. His shoulders relaxed slightly. The suspicion faded from his eyes.

You always had a weak stomach, he said, dismissing the thought.

He didn't step closer. He didn't offer to help.

Take some time off after the launch, he said. He sounded almost kind. Or maybe he just didn't want a sick employee infecting the workspace.

Vivian nodded, not turning around to face him.

He left.

Vivian looked in the mirror. She looked ghostly. There were dark circles under her eyes.

She leaned against the sink, breathing hard. That was too close.

She returned to the meeting.

As she sat down, her phone lit up.

It was a text from an unknown number.

This is Mark, Lily Evans' agent. We need to talk.

Vivian looked at Julian, who was laughing at something Serena said.

She texted back: "Meet me at the coffee shop downstairs in 10. I'll help you sue us."

Vivian was forced to organize Serena's welcome party. She had tried to refuse, but Julian had made it a condition for allowing her to keep her father's vintage watch collection, which had been stored in the company vault. For that, she would endure one last humiliation.

The party was at a jazz club in the Village-Julian's favorite spot.

She was at the venue early, checking the sound equipment with the technicians. She wore black, blending into the shadows.

Julian arrived early to check on Serena, who was doing a soundcheck on stage.

They were standing by the DJ booth. Vivian approached with a clipboard to get Julian's sign-off on the catering menu.

As she walked up, she saw Julian holding a vinyl record. He was showing it to Serena with a look of reverence.

It was a first pressing of Miles Davis's "Kind of Blue."

You still have it, Serena whispered, touching the cover.

Of course, Julian said softly. "It's the best gift I ever received."

Vivian froze.

She had bought him a copy of that record for his birthday last year. She had hunted it down in Tokyo. She had presented it to him, and he had smiled and thanked her.

But the copy in his hand... she looked closer. It was worn at the edges. It wasn't the pristine, mint-condition copy she had bought.

I remember signing the sleeve, Serena said, opening it to show her signature in silver ink. "Happy 25th, Jay."

Vivian felt the ground drop out from under her.

He was holding the copy Serena gave him years ago.

Where is... Vivian started, then stopped herself.

She looked at the shelf behind the booth, where Julian kept a few records at the club. On the bottom shelf, still wrapped in plastic, still in the gift bag she had put it in, was her copy.

He hadn't even opened hers. He had kept Serena's on display and thrown hers in the trash pile.

Vivian's hand went slack. The clipboard slipped from her fingers.

Clatter.

The sound echoed in the empty club.

Julian and Serena turned.

Clumsy, Serena whispered to Julian, loud enough for Vivian to hear.

Vivian bent down to pick up the clipboard. Her face burned.

I need to check the catering, she said abruptly.

She walked away fast. She pushed through the kitchen doors and went out into the back alley.

The air smelled of garbage and rain.

Vivian kicked a trash can. She kicked it again, harder.

She screamed silently into her hand, her body shaking with rage and grief.

Suddenly, amidst the anger, she felt a strange sensation. It wasn't physical-it was too early for that-but it was a profound, deep tug in her gut. A moment of absolute clarity. A spiritual tether snapping into place.

She wasn't alone.

She placed her hands on her stomach. She closed her eyes and imagined the tiny spark of life inside her. It was the only thing in the world that was truly hers. It was the only thing that didn't belong to the Sterling empire.

Just us, she whispered to the damp air. "We're leaving. I promise."

She pulled out her phone and called her lawyer.

Speed up the divorce, she said.

Vivian, the lawyer warned, if we rush, we lose leverage on the alimony.

I don't want the alimony, Vivian hissed. "I just want out. I want his name off me. Draft the papers now."

Just do it.

She hung up.

She wiped her face with a tissue. She fixed her hair in the reflection of a dark window.

She returned to the party.

She stood in the shadows, watching them. Julian had his hand on the small of Serena's back. They looked perfect together.

Vivian touched her stomach again. She had a secret that would destroy his perfect picture, but she would never let him use it. She would be the one to walk away.