Chapter 21 #2
A blonde woman, younger than him and draped in a striking red dress, is laughing softly. Her hand is resting on his arm as if it belongs there. A spike of heat shoots through me. I quicken my pace, the air in my lungs turning tight.
I reach them and slide my fingers around his arm, covering the exact spot where her hand just was. "Sorry for the delay," I say, my voice pitched just high enough to slice through their shared moment.
Colin’s eyes flick down to my hand, and in the coldness of his stare, I realize my mistake instantly. I let go, but the damage is done. He steps back, physically widening the space between us as if to disassociate himself from my touch. My jaw tightens, and I force myself to look at the woman.
"Rita, this is Maya Fisher, my temporary assistant."
The word temporary hits me like a slap.
The woman smiles politely. "Rita Jones." She shakes my hand with effortless ease before excusing herself almost immediately.
Colin doesn't wait for her to be out of earshot before signaling for the check. We leave the restaurant in a suffocating silence, no explanation, no confrontation, not a single word. He doesn't even look at me.
The following section includes a brief instance of mild on-page cheating. It is part of the story’s journey, but this moment may be difficult for some readers. Please feel free to skip it if it feels overwhelming.
The silence in the elevator is suffocating. He says nothing, his gaze fixed straight ahead as the floors tick by. I know I overstepped, but seeing her hand on him—seeing her touch him like she had the right—made something in me snap.
I don’t understand why he’s this angry. We both know these trips are never strictly professional. Even on quick day trips, he always finds a way to have me. Everything felt fine. He wasn’t even this tense after the night he forgot the condom.
Just this past Tuesday—my twenty-sixth birthday—he sent roses and expensive chocolates to my door. At the office, he only offered a small, knowing smile when I thanked him, but that night, he came to see me. He was late, but I didn’t care. Having him there was enough.
He fucked me with a raw intensity that left no room for words.
Afterward, we shared a single glass of the champagne I’d bought for the occasion, and I tried to hold on to the moment, knowing he’d be heading home to her soon after.
He doesn’t get it. I just want him.
All the coldness, the distance, the way he shuts me out—I’ve accepted it all.
Not for the reasons I once told myself, but because when he touches me, the rest of the world stops.
I know his behavior is about control. I’ve always known that.
But if he’s following me into my room right now, even in this mood, it means he’s still under my spell.
That he feels this thing between us just as strongly as I do.
I swipe the keycard and step inside. Colin follows, closing the door with a quiet, calculated care that feels more dangerous than a slam.
“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice is low, carrying a force that makes my skin prickle. “She could’ve been someone my wife knows. Someone she sees every day. What do you think she saw? My assistant pawing at me?”
He exhales sharply. “She’s the daughter of one of our biggest investors.”
I look up at him through my lashes, softening my expression. "Forgive me? I promise it won't happen again."
"You can be damn sure it won't," he scoffs, turning his back to me. He stalks over to the floor-to-ceiling window, the city lights reflecting off his rigid silhouette.
I don’t argue. Instead, I begin to undress, slowly. I see his posture shift; I know he’s watching my reflection in the glass. Once I’m naked, I cross the room and slide between him and the window, framing myself against the skyline.
I spread my legs slightly, my fingers gliding down my stomach before dipping between my legs, gathering the wetness, then lifting them to his lips. I let him see exactly what he does to me. He doesn’t pull away. He opens his mouth and takes my fingers in, sucking slowly, his eyes fluttering shut.
“This is what you do to me,” I murmur.
I guide his hand down, pressing it to my pussy. He slides a finger inside me, tearing a gasp from my lips, but I don’t let him keep it there. I draw his wrist back to my mouth and taste myself from his skin, my eyes never leaving his, making sure he sees exactly what he’s done to me.
Lust finally eclipses the anger in his gaze. Colin seizes my hair in both hands and crashes his mouth onto mine. It’s a collision, not a kiss. When he breaks away to trail his lips down my neck, his voice is a jagged growl.
“You want to drive me insane.”
He bites and licks at my skin, his hands clamping onto my ass as he lifts me effortlessly.
I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him as he carries me to the bed.
He throws me back onto the mattress and strips with frantic, focused energy.
He pulls a strip of condoms from his wallet and tosses them onto the sheets.
When he’s finally naked—stripped of the suit, the ego, and the distance—I watch him tear one open with his teeth.
“The lube’s in the nightstand drawer,” I say, my voice dropping into a low, suggestive purr.
He flashes me a wolfish smile… the kind that promises I won’t be walking straight tomorrow.
I lie awake in the dim light, watching Colin sleep. After I rode him—straddling him in reverse, my back to his chest—he didn’t hold me or show any kind of affection. He only waited for me to climb off before he stripped away the condom, rolled to his side, and drifted into silence.
This time felt different. He made me come just as hard as he always does, and he took his fill of my body with the same hunger, but the soul was missing.
It wasn't that beautiful moment where he loses himself in me and forgets the world exists.
Instead, it felt like he was using me to drown everything out… including me.
The next morning, when my alarm cuts through the silence, I wake to a cold, empty bed.
There’s no trace of him. No lingering scent, no warmth left behind. Not even an indent on the pillow where his head rested. The only proof he was ever here is a note left on the nightstand.
I moved up our flight. We’ll head to the airport before noon, immediately after the last meeting.
I stare at the paper, the words blurring. He’s already gone, already retreating back into the professional, distant man who barely knows my name. The "temporary assistant" is back on the clock.
Colin
I spent the entire day trying to reach Ceci. Every free moment, I called, but she always seemed busy—her replies came in short texts, sometimes almost an hour after I'd tried.
I'm glad I moved up our flight the moment I woke. I don't know what came over me, but I couldn't have handled dragging through the rest of the day like that.
As soon as we step out of the airport, I turn to Maya. "You'll need to grab a cab."
Her eyes flick up to mine, wounded. "But it's still early. You could drop me off... stay a little longer."
It's just after six in the evening, and all I want is to get home, to shake off this gnawing feeling in my chest. I need to see my wife. When Ceci didn't answer before I boarded my flight, I left a voicemail and a text telling her I'd moved up my return and would be home for dinner.
I can't waste time arguing. "Maya, I need to go home. Call a cab or something."
I lean in to brush a kiss against her cheek, a reflex meant to shut down her attempts to get me to go with her—but she turns at the last second, her lips catching mine in a quick, unwanted kiss.
"I'll see you on Monday," she says.
I walk away without looking back.
I need to speak with Theodora as soon as possible, have Maya reassigned to another department and reduce my contact with her to the rare occasions I might go to her apartment.
I always thought that when things end between us, she'll accept it and move on.
But after the stunt she pulled yesterday, I'm not so sure anymore.
I’m putting my suitcase in the trunk when I hear a notification on my phone.
Thinking it’s Ceci, I grab it quickly. A strange dread coils in my stomach when I see it’s an email notification—a new post on Ceci’s blog.
I click without thinking, unable to remember the last time I even got one of these.
As the page loads, I feel the blood drain from my body.
How? When?
"No. No!"
This can't be happening.
I slam the trunk shut, jump into the car, and pull away hard. Traffic fights me the entire way, but I push the car as fast as I dare. I’m still not sure how I avoid getting pulled over.
As soon as I open the front door, I'm met with absolute silence.
"Ceci! Alicia! Ethan!" I call their names over and over as I tear through the living room and kitchen before bolting up the stairs.
No one. The house is empty.
When I open our closet and see all of my clothes and Ceci's still hanging there, I let out a shaky breath of relief.
"I can fix this," I whisper to myself.
I rush back downstairs, mind racing with where to look first. I need to find Ceci. I need her to hear me.
"Hello, Colin."
Her voice stops me cold.
I turn—and there she is. Dressed in black, seated at the table where she so often works in the sunroom. Her legs crossed, her posture composed and unyielding, her chin lifted in quiet defiance. Her gaze locks on mine, steady, unflinching.
"Did you enjoy your trip?"
Book Two arrives in February.
Thank you for reading.
This was only the beginning of Cecily’s fractured journey.
I’ll see you again soon… right where everything truly starts to fall apart.
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