The woman at the house had been Chloe. She had shown up at the estate with a stack of 'urgent' acquisition files, a thin excuse to invade my home and stare down my pregnant wife. I had rushed back, escorted Chloe off the property, and promised Grace it was just a professional boundary issue.

I thought giving Chloe the promotion would satisfy her. I was wrong. The power only sharpened her fangs.

A week later, the poison had completely infected the Hale Group.

I walked out of the boardroom on a Tuesday afternoon and paused near the break area. Chloe stood by the espresso machine, surrounded by three new junior analysts.

"Some people just know how to play the game," Chloe said, stirring her cup. Her voice carried easily down the corridor. "She knew exactly what she was doing. We had one fight, and she moved in with money and perfect timing. Now he's trapped."

The new hires exchanged wide-eyed glances.

"That's awful," a young woman murmured.

"It is what it is," Chloe sighed, playing the victim perfectly. "I just pity him. He's trapped."

Anger flared in my chest. I opened my mouth to shut it down, but the elevator doors chimed at the end of the hall.

Grace stepped out.

She wore a loose cream sweater that highlighted her four-month baby bump. In her hands, she held an insulated thermos. Her face was pale, shadows lingering beneath her eyes from the relentless morning sickness.

Chloe turned. A cruel, triumphant spark lit up her eyes. She stepped right into the center of the hallway, blocking Grace’s path.

"Well, look who decided to drop by," Chloe said loudly, making sure the whole floor could hear. "The chairman's wife. Didn't expect to see you here."

Grace stopped. Her grip tightened on the thermos handle. "Excuse me, Chloe. I'm here to see my husband."

"Makes sense," Chloe mocked, crossing her arms. She tilted her head, ensuring the entire floor could hear. "If you don't keep a close eye on him, who knows where a man's heart might wander off to? You can't blame a guy for looking elsewhere when he's suffocating at home."

"That is enough!" I barked, stepping out of the shadows.

The analysts scattered instantly. Chloe’s smirk vanished, replaced by a mask of innocence.

I ignored her, striding over to Grace. I placed a hand on her lower back. "You shouldn't have come all this way. You need rest."

"I made the soup your mother recommended," Grace said quietly. She didn't look at Chloe. "I wanted to make sure you actually ate lunch."

"Come into my office." I guided her away from the staring eyes of the staff.

Once the heavy oak door clicked shut, the oppressive tension in the air eased slightly. Grace set the thermos on my desk. She leaned against the edge of the mahogany wood, pressing a hand to her stomach.

"I have to sign off on a dispatch order down the hall," I told her, pulling out my chair. "Sit down. I'll be back in two minutes."

I walked out, leaving my phone sitting face-up on the desk.

I didn't lock the screen.

When I returned three minutes later, the office was dead silent.

Grace stood perfectly still by the desk. My phone was in her hand. Her knuckles were stark white, the skin stretched tight over the bone.

"Grace?" I asked, stepping forward.

She tapped the screen. The volume was turned all the way up.

Chloe’s voice filled the room, sultry and confident.

*"That night... even though you stopped, I know who your body and heart truly belong to."*

The blood drained from my face. My heart slammed against my ribs.

Grace tapped the screen again. The next audio message played.

*"Whenever you need it, I'm always waiting for you at the usual place."*

Below the voice notes, a string of text messages illuminated the screen. Late-night check-ins. Inside jokes. Chloe crossing every possible line, and me failing to shut her down.

Grace looked up. Her eyes were hollow, devoid of the warmth that had anchored me for the last year.

"Grace, let me explain—"

She hurled the phone at me.

The device struck my chest hard and clattered to the floor, the screen splintering into a spiderweb of cracked glass.

"You let her touch you?" Grace’s voice shook violently. Her whole body trembled.

"No! We didn't do anything!"

"Do not lie to me, Ethan!" she screamed, the sound tearing from her throat. "I am at home, throwing up until my throat bleeds, and you are bringing your ex-girlfriend into the office at midnight?!"

Panic seized my lungs. I dropped to my knees. The impact sent a jolt of pain up my legs, but I didn't care.

"Grace, I swear we didn't go all the way!" I pleaded, grabbing the hem of her sweater. "She kissed me. I was confused for a second, my mind was clouded by the stress and the alcohol, but I stopped it! I pushed her away!"

She yanked her sweater out of my grip. "Is that why she's running the acquisitions department? You handed her my projects to buy yourself a clear conscience?"

"I was an idiot!" I pressed the heels of my hands hard against my eyes. "I was a coward. I thought if I gave her the promotion she'd leave us alone. I was wrong."

"You invited her back into your life," Grace wept. "You gave her the knife and showed her exactly where to stab me."

She pressed both hands over her pregnant belly. Her tears fell rapidly, splashing onto the dark fabric of her maternity pants.

Seeing her break down shattered me. The twelve years of pure, unconditional friendship. The way she had held my family together. The tiny flutters of fetal movement she had excitedly made me feel just two nights ago. My parents' endless joy.

I had jeopardized all of it for a fleeting moment of weakness.

"I will fix this," I begged, crawling closer to her feet. "I will revoke all her permissions right now. I will kick her out of the company immediately. I will block her number, and I swear to God, I will never see her again. Please, Grace. Please don't leave me."

Grace stared down at me. The betrayal in her eyes was a physical weight, pressing down on my neck.

She looked at her stomach. She closed her eyes, her chest heaving as she fought a silent, agonizing battle. I knew what she was doing. She was gathering the shattered pieces of her heart, swallowing the blood and the humiliation, all to keep this family intact for the baby.

"Get up," she whispered, her voice entirely completely drained of emotion.

I stood, my legs shaking.

"You have one hour," Grace said coldly, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "If she is still in this building when I get home, I'm gone."

"She's gone," I promised fiercely. "I'm firing her right now."

Grace turned and walked out of the office without another word.

I didn't waste a single second. I marched straight to the acquisitions floor, my fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. I was going to tear up Chloe's contract in front of the entire department.

I pushed open the glass doors to Chloe's new corner office.

"Chloe, pack your—"

I stopped.

The office was completely empty. Her coat was gone. Her desk was cleared out.

Sitting in the center of her pristine desk was a single, sealed white envelope with my name written in red ink.

I picked it up. Inside was a short note and a key.

You already know where I am. You are always welcome.

—C

I stood there for a long time, the key cold in my palm.

I should have thrown it away.

I didn’t.