The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the open-plan design floor, casting long shadows across Eleonora's cubicle. She sat perfectly still in her ergonomic chair, the low partitions around her offering little privacy.

She pulled the Equity Transfer Agreement from her briefcase and laid it flat in the center of her desk. She placed the custom Montblanc pen—a gift from Julian—right next to it.

The sharp, aggressive click-clack of high heels echoed down the hallway.

Eleonora didn't move. She knew exactly who it was.

The sound stopped right outside her cubicle. Without a knock, Seraphina stepped inside, invading the small space as if she owned it.

Seraphina was wearing a blood-red tailored suit that screamed for attention. She held two Starbucks cups in her hands, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face.

"Good morning, Eleonora," Seraphina chirped. She set one of the cups on the corner of the desk. "I brought you coffee. I wanted to apologize for the little misunderstanding in the boardroom yesterday."

Eleonora leaned back in her chair. She crossed her arms over her chest, her posture defensive and cold.

"This is a professional workspace, Director," Eleonora said, her voice flat. "You knock before you enter—even when there's no door."

Seraphina's smile faltered for a second before she pouted her lips in fake innocence.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she cooed. "I just assumed you wouldn't mind. Julian never makes me knock."

As Seraphina leaned over the desk to push the coffee cup closer, her eyes naturally fell onto the thick document lying in the center of the wood.

Her eyes scanned the bold black header.

10% Equity Transfer Letter of Intent.

Seraphina's pupils dilated so fast her eyes looked entirely black. Her breathing stopped. The fake smile melted off her face, replaced by a look of sheer, unadulterated horror.

She jerked upright, her fingernails digging painfully into her own palms.

"What is that?" Seraphina demanded, her voice shrill and trembling.

Eleonora saw the raw, burning jealousy in Seraphina's eyes. A cold, dark satisfaction bloomed in Eleonora's chest.

She slowly reached out and picked up the Montblanc pen. She tapped the gold nib gently against the paper. Tap. Tap.

"This?" Eleonora asked, her tone light and mocking. "Just a little preliminary legal arrangement Julian insisted on initiating last night. To make up for your little tantrum in the boardroom."

The words hit Seraphina like a physical slap across the face. Her face turned a mottled, ugly red.

"You're lying!" Seraphina shrieked, her voice echoing off the glass walls of the nearby executive offices. "He would never give you shares! You're an outsider! He wouldn't give away the family company!"

Eleonora ignored her screaming. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk. She stared directly into Seraphina's manic eyes.

"An outsider?" Eleonora laughed softly.

She pressed the pen to the signature line. With smooth, fluid strokes, she signed her full legal name: Eleonora Sinclair.

The scratch of the pen on the thick paper was the only sound in the room.

Eleonora capped the pen. She grabbed the top of the document and spun it 180 degrees, sliding it directly under Seraphina's nose.

"Read it carefully," Eleonora commanded, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "I am now a major shareholder of Sinclair Group. And you? You're just an employee."

Seraphina stared at the fresh, wet ink of the signature. Her chest heaved violently. The blood rushed to her head, blinding her with rage.

With a feral scream, Seraphina lunged across the desk, her hands clawing wildly for the contract, desperate to rip it to shreds.

Eleonora was faster. She slammed her left hand down on the document, pinning it to the desk. With her right hand, she swept her arm in a violent arc.

Her forearm collided with the hot Starbucks cup Seraphina had brought.

The cup tipped over. The lid popped off.

Scalding hot coffee splashed directly onto the front of Seraphina's expensive red skirt.

Seraphina shrieked in pain and shock. She stumbled backward, her high heels catching on the carpet. She crashed hard into the partition wall of the cubicle, clutching her stained skirt.

The commotion drew a crowd. Designers and assistants gathered outside the cubicle, staring in shock at their new Director, who looked like a wet, screaming mess.

Seraphina felt the eyes of the entire department on her. The humiliation burned hotter than the coffee on her legs. Her facial muscles twitched with pure, murderous hatred as she glared at Eleonora.

Eleonora stood up slowly. She grabbed a tissue from a box and elegantly wiped a drop of coffee off her knuckle.

She looked down at Seraphina with absolute disgust.

"Take your trash and get out of my cubicle," Eleonora ordered.

Seraphina ground her teeth together so hard her jaw popped. She knew she had lost this battle. She spun around, shoved her way through the whispering crowd of employees, and ran down the hallway.

The crowd quickly dispersed. Paige scurried over with a roll of paper towels, looking at Eleonora with a mixture of terror and awe.

Eleonora sank back into her chair. Her adrenaline crashed, leaving her limbs feeling heavy and weak. She locked the signed contract in her desk drawer.

She had won the battle, but her heart felt completely empty. She knew Seraphina would run straight to Julian crying.

Hours passed. At 5:30 PM, Eleonora packed her bag.

Her phone buzzed. It was Julian.

"Nora," his voice came through the speaker, sounding tired but incredibly gentle. "Let's go out for dinner tonight. Just the two of us. To celebrate."

Eleonora stared at the locked drawer. She placed her hand over her stomach.

She took a long breath. The contract was signed. The shares were hers. Now there was only one secret left—the one growing inside her. She had given him chance after chance, and each time he had chosen Seraphina. But tonight, she would test him one final time. Not with hope. With proof.

"Okay," she said softly. "I'll meet you in the VIP garage."

She hung up the phone and walked out of the office, unaware that she was walking straight into a nightmare.

Eleonora stepped off the executive elevator into the subterranean VIP parking garage.

The air down here was damp and smelled of exhaust and expensive rubber. The motion-sensor fluorescent lights flickered on sequentially as she walked, casting long, eerie shadows against the concrete walls. The sharp click-clack of her heels echoed loudly in the cavernous space.

Inside her leather tote bag, the small, beautifully wrapped box containing the knitted baby shoes felt heavy. Her heart beat a little faster. This was it. The final test of their marriage.

She turned the corner past a massive concrete support pillar.

Julian's sleek, black Maybach was parked in his reserved spot. The headlights were off, but the engine was running, emitting a low, powerful purr.

Eleonora took a deep breath, smoothing down her skirt. A small, hopeful smile touched her lips. She walked toward the driver's side door.

When she was about thirty feet away, her footsteps faltered.

The Maybach's windows were heavily tinted with privacy glass, but the harsh overhead garage lights caught the reflection just right. She could see two silhouettes inside the front cabin.

Eleonora stopped dead in her tracks. A cold prickle of dread washed over her skin.

She moved silently, stepping to the right to get a better angle through the front windshield.

The overhead light illuminated the passenger seat perfectly.

Sitting there was Seraphina.

She had changed out of her coffee-stained red suit. She was now wearing a soft, oversized white knit sweater that made her look incredibly small and fragile. She had her head turned, looking adoringly toward the driver's seat.

Eleonora's feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. Her lungs completely stopped working. The hopeful smile on her face shattered into a million jagged pieces.

Inside the car, Julian leaned his entire upper body over the center console, invading the passenger seat.

From Eleonora's angle outside the windshield, Julian's entire upper body was draped over the center console, invading the passenger seat. His arm was wrapped securely around Seraphina's body, his head bowed so low it was practically buried in the crook of her neck. It wasn't a kiss, but the posture was suffocatingly intimate, radiating a fierce, possessive protectiveness that completely obliterated the boundaries of a brother and sister.

A violent wave of nausea hit Eleonora so hard she nearly doubled over. Acid burned the back of her throat.

She stumbled backward, practically throwing herself behind the thick concrete pillar. She pressed her back against the rough, cold stone, slapping both hands over her mouth to muffle her own gasping breaths.

A few seconds later, Julian sat back in the driver's seat.

He had just been leaning over to buckle Seraphina's seatbelt.

But the realization offered no comfort. The passenger seat of his car was a sacred space. The intimacy of him leaning over her, buckling her in like a cherished lover, was a knife straight to Eleonora's heart.

Through the glass, she saw Seraphina say something. Julian laughed. He reached out and affectionately ruffled Seraphina's hair.

The visual of his large hand stroking her hair burned into Eleonora's retinas.

Her fingers dug so fiercely into the leather strap of her tote bag that her joints ached. The baby shoes hidden inside her bag suddenly felt like a toxic, humiliating joke.

Half an hour ago, he had called her, his voice dripping with love, asking her to a private dinner to "celebrate." And here he was, with the woman who had tried to destroy her career just hours before.

Suddenly, the Maybach's driver-side door popped open.

Julian stepped out of the car. He walked toward the trunk.

Eleonora held her breath. She pressed herself flat against the pillar, terrified he would see her. Her heart hammered so violently she thought it might break her ribs. She debated running out and screaming at him, but her body refused to move.

The passenger door opened.

Seraphina stepped out into the garage. She walked around the front of the car and approached Julian.

Without a word of hesitation, Seraphina slipped her arm through Julian's, pressing her body against his side.

Julian didn't push her away. He didn't even flinch.

Instead, he looked down at her wrist. "Does the burn still hurt?" he asked. His voice echoed slightly in the empty garage, thick with tender concern.

"It only hurts when you're not looking at me, Julian," Seraphina cooed, resting her head on his shoulder.

As she said it, Seraphina turned her head. Her eyes looked directly past Julian's shoulder, staring straight at the concrete pillar where Eleonora was hiding.

Eleonora's blood turned to ice.

She shrank back into the shadows, a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead.

Seraphina knew she was there. She had seen her approaching. The seatbelt, the hair ruffle, the arm-holding-it was all a calculated, theatrical performance designed specifically to torture Eleonora.

A wave of pure, unadulterated humiliation crashed over Eleonora. She bit down on her lower lip so hard that she tasted fresh, metallic blood.

She wanted to charge out and rip Seraphina's hair out. But logic screamed at her to stop. If she ran out now, she would look like a hysterical, jealous maniac. Julian would just protect Seraphina.

Julian patted Seraphina's hand. He opened the passenger door for her. "Get in. Let's go."

Seraphina didn't get into the car immediately. She leaned against the open door, her voice carrying perfectly through the quiet, echoing garage. "You know, Julian," Seraphina purred, her eyes still locked on the concrete pillar where Eleonora hid. "This reminds me of the night of your wedding. When you were at the Hamptons estate? I had a terrible panic attack. You stayed by my bed and held my hand the entire night. You've always been my protector."

Julian froze, his back stiffening. "Get in the car, Seraphina. We don't talk about that night," he snapped, completely unaware of his wife standing thirty feet away in the shadows.

The words detonated in the damp garage air like a bomb. The air was instantly sucked out of Eleonora's lungs. Her brain completely short-circuited. A high-pitched ringing sound filled her ears.

Her mind violently flashed back to three years ago. She remembered sitting in the center of their massive, rose-covered marital bed in her heavy, suffocating wedding dress. Julian had taken a phone call, his face pale. He told her there was a catastrophic PR crisis in the European division. He had kissed her forehead, apologized profusely, and left.

She had stayed awake until dawn, praying for his business to survive, feeling terrified for him.

And all that time... he had been sitting by another woman's bed.

The moment Julian's back was turned, Eleonora spun around.

She ran.

She sprinted back toward the elevator bank as fast as her heels would allow. The sharp clack-clack-clack of her shoes echoed loudly.

Julian's head snapped up at the sound. He peered into the dim garage, but Eleonora had already thrown herself around the corner.

She slammed her hand against the elevator call button. The doors slid open instantly. She threw herself inside and hit the button for the lobby.

As the doors began to close, her phone vibrated in her pocket.

She pulled it out. Julian calling.

Eleonora stared at the screen, her eyes completely dead. She pressed the volume button, silencing the call.

The elevator doors sealed shut, locking her in the small metal box.

Eleonora's knees gave out. She slid down the wall of the elevator until she hit the floor.

She unzipped her tote bag. She pulled out the beautiful, silver-wrapped box containing the baby shoes.

She stared at it for three seconds. Then, with a violent, jerky motion, she threw the box directly into the small metal trash can in the corner of the elevator.

It hit the bottom with a hollow, final thud.

She wiped the tears from her face. She stood up as the elevator dinged at the lobby level. She was done hoping. She was done crying. She was going to that dinner, and she was going to watch them burn.