Rosalyn waited until Marcus fell asleep. His breathing was slow, steady, but she could feel the tension he carried even in sleep. He believed he had control, believed he had her completely. That belief made him careless.
She quietly got up and walked to the small drawer in his desk, where she had noticed papers, messages, and emails he never thought anyone would touch. Her hands were steady. Every step, every breath, was practiced.
Inside, she found the proof she needed. Names of tenants, complaints, contracts—details showing how he quietly manipulated people, how he punished those who annoyed him without leaving a trace. She collected photos of the documents on her phone, careful not to make any noise.
As she worked, a part of her felt guilty. This was Marcus, the man who smiled at her, who brought her flowers, who thought they were building something real. But she shook the thought away. He wasn't real. Not like this. Not with the cage he was building around her.
The moment she put her phone back, she heard a soft knock. Her heart skipped, but it wasn't Marcus. It was someone else—Sebastian Vale, standing just inside the doorway.
"You shouldn't be here alone," he said quietly, his sharp gaze scanning the room.
Rosalyn kept her voice low. "I can handle myself."
"I know," Sebastian said. "But some men aren't meant to be left unchecked."
For the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of relief. Sebastian's presence reminded her of the choice she still had. The power Marcus thought he held was only an illusion.
She nodded slightly, letting him understand without saying too much.
Marcus slept, unaware that the first real step of his downfall had already begun.
Rosalyn felt her chest tighten, not from fear, but from anticipation. This was dangerous, yes. Risky. But she had planned for it.
And finally, she felt alive again.