Sophia sat in her car outside Blackwood Media, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. The clock read 2:15 PM. Jessica left Café Luna at 1:47, and Richard's "meeting" had been moved to 2:00.
The math was simple. Devastatingly simple.
She hadn't thought, just followed her instinct to find the truth. Now, staring at the tall tower, it felt like she was on the edge
But she had to know.
The lobby was marble and chrome, meant to impress. The security guard hardly glanced at her—Mrs. Blackwood had privileges. The elevator ride to the fortieth floor felt endless, each ding counting down to something bad.
Richard's secretary wasn't at her desk. On Thursdays, Margaret left early for yoga. The executive floor was quiet. Sophia's heels clicked on the polished floor as she walked toward Richard's office.
The door was slightly ajar. Voices filtered through—low, intimate murmurs that made her stomach twist.
"God, I've missed you," Richard said, his voice thick with something she hadn't heard in months.
"Then don't waste time talking." Jessica laughed, breathless, sultry in a way Sophia had never known.
Sophia pressed against the wall, heart racing. Through the crack, she saw Jessica on Richard's desk, skirt up, with Richard standing between her legs, hands in her hair.
"I can't stop thinking about you," he murmured against Jessica's neck. "Last night, lying next to her… all I could think about was this. About us."
"Poor thing," Jessica said, playing with his tie. "Pretending to be the devoted husband must be tiring."
"You have no idea." Richard pulled back, expression tender but not toward her. "Sometimes I wonder… what if I'd met you first?"
"You mean before marrying her for connections?" Jessica's smile was sharp.
Sophia froze. Connections? She'd brought nothing but love to this marriage.
Richard laughed, bitter. "Some connections those were. Dead parents don't open doors."
"So why not divorce yet?"
"The prenup. She'd get half if I filed. But if she files…"
"She gets nothing," Jessica said, teeth sharp. "Good thing she's so trusting. So naive."
"Pathetically so." His hands slid up her thighs. "She thinks we have a real marriage. That I love her."
Each word stabbed Sophia. She bit her knuckle to keep from crying out.
"Well," Jessica breathed, wrapping her legs around him, "we both know who you really love."
"Say it," Richard demanded.
"You love me. Only me. Always me."
"And I'll prove it." His mouth claimed hers with desperate hunger. "I'll make her beg for divorce. Make her miserable enough to release me."
This wasn't just an affair. It was closeness, history. The bond Sophia thought she had with him was gone, replaced by cold lust and betrayal.
"Richard," Jessica whispered, voice low, "what if she finds out before we're ready?"
"Who would tell her? You're her only real friend. Everyone else tolerates her because of me," he sneered. "Even if she suspected, what could she do? No job. No money. No family."
"Speaking of family…" Jessica's tone dropped. "Did you ever tell her the truth about the accident?"
Sophia's world turned
"What truth?" she whispered, though she didn't know if she'd said it aloud.
"Why would I?" Richard's voice was cold, calculating. "She thinks her parents died in a car accident at eight. No need to complicate things."
The hallway spun. Sophia grabbed the wall, her knees shaking.
The Romano family never leaves loose ends. But they don't kill kids. So it was staged to look like an accident. And the system took her.
"And you found her in college?"
"Happened to find her?" He laughed, cruel. "We were looking. The Martinez heiress. Her parents hid their fortune… but not well enough. Her trust fund matures on her twenty-fourth birthday."
Her birthday. Three weeks away.
"And then?"
"And then…" Richard said calmly. "She'll have an accident. The grieving widower inherits everything. The Romano family gets the money back. And I get the woman I really want."
Jessica's happy laughter was the last thing Sophia heard before darkness took her
When she came to, the office was silent. Panic surged. Had they heard her fall?
Then Jessica's voice returned, soft, breathless.
"God, the things you do to me…"
They were too wrapped in each other to notice anything else.
Sophia forced herself to move, to breathe, to think. She had to escape.
Her p
hone buzzed in her purse, deafening in the silence.
Footsteps. Approaching.
Sophia ran.