Chapter 1At our housewarming party, we played a dare game. One friend grinned:
"Adam! Delete a fingerprint from the smart lock!"
My fiancé pulled out his phone and tapped a few times. My screen lit up:
[Your access to the smart lock has been revoked.]
Everyone burst out laughing.
Adam casually slipped an arm around my waist.
"Come on, they're just screwing around."
"I'll add you back after everyone leaves, okay?"
This was the ninth time he'd deleted my fingerprint.
Every time he added it back, he'd kiss my cheek and say the same thing:
"You can come over whenever. This is your place too."
But the next time I came home, I got the same message:
[Your fingerprint is not recognized.]
Someone laughed.
"Adam, you still haven't given Rachel permanent access?"
"Didn't you give Claire owner access when she moved in last month?"
The whole room went silent.
Adam's face darkened.
"Claire just got back from overseas. She had nowhere else to go."
"You barely even stay here. Why does it matter?"
I said nothing. Just pulled the ring off my finger and dropped it in his hand.
Then I called my realtor right there.
"I want my condo listed tonight."
...
Adam stared at the ring in his palm, completely frozen.
His friends stopped mid-drink and everyone turned to look at me.
He grabbed my wrist.
"Rachel, it's just a door lock. You're taking off your ring in front of everyone?"
I didn't say anything.
Claire, sitting on the couch, put down her wine glass and stood up slowly.
"Rachel, you've got it all wrong. I'm just crashing here for a bit. Adam only gave me access so I could get in and out."
"If it's such a problem, I'll just go. I can stay at a hotel. I wasn't trying to upset you."
She started walking toward the door.
Adam immediately let go of me, crossed the room in three strides, and put his hand on her shoulder.
"You're not staying in a hotel."
He turned back to me, his voice hard and cold.
"Claire's staying here for a few days. What, you need to embarrass her in front of everyone to feel better?"
"I'm the one who added the fingerprint. You got a problem? Take it up with me. Leave her out of this."
I paid for half this place.
But I can't even get a damn fingerprint in the door.
I walked past him into the master bedroom, opened the nightstand drawer, pulled out the purchase agreement, and shoved it into my bag.
Adam followed me to the doorway.
When he saw me packing up, his expression shifted.
He reached out like he was going to grab my arm.
From the living room, Claire's voice cut through the air.
"Adam… my stomach hurts so bad..."
Adam immediately shoved me out of the way. Rushed toward the living room.
I slammed into the table edge.
Pain shot through my back.
I grabbed the edge, gasping.
Adam was already at the couch, helping Claire to her feet.
He turned and yelled at me over his shoulder.
"Rachel! Go get her some water!"
My back was throbbing.
The pain spread into my stomach, twisting and sharp.
I couldn't catch my breath.
Adam scooped Claire up in his arms and bolted for the door.
"Forget it. I'll take her to the hospital!"
The door slammed shut behind them.
Our friends started filtering out one by one, sensing the mood.
The living room was empty now.
Claire's heels were kicked off by the entrance.
Her coat was thrown over the back of the couch.
Her half-empty champagne glass sat on the coffee table.
I clutched my stomach, pulled out my phone, and dialed my realtor.
"Hey, Mike. I want my downtown condo listed tonight."
"Drop the price twenty grand under market if you have to. Just find someone fast."
I hung up.
Pressed harder against my stomach, grabbed my bag, and walked out the door.
Didn't look back.
Chapter 2
The next day, I took a cab to the bridal boutique downtown.
We were supposed to get married next month.
Since that wasn't happening anymore, the dress had to go.
I walked in and heard familiar voices coming from the VIP fitting room.
I followed the sound.
The door was cracked open.
Through the gap, I saw Claire standing in front of the mirror.
Wearing my wedding dress.
I'd spent half a year picking out that dress.
Every detail—the neckline, the layers of lace—I'd gone over it all with the designer.
Adam didn't show up for the fitting. He had a meeting.
When I sent him photos later, he replied three hours later with "looks fine."
But now he was standing behind her, carefully adjusting the train.
Claire spun around and smiled at her reflection.
"Adam, the waist's a little tight."
"Rachel probably doesn't work out much. I doubt she could even fit into this."
Adam looked her over in the mirror. Nodded.
"Yeah. You've got a better frame for it anyway."
"We'll get it altered. You can wear it to the gala next week."
I pushed the door open.
It banged against the wall. Both of them turned.
Adam let go of the dress and stepped back.
"I figured you were still pissed about last night and wouldn't come, so I had Claire try it on to see how it looked."
I stared at that dress on her. My stomach turned.
"Cancel the order."
"I don't want it anymore."
Claire smoothed the fabric and walked toward me.
"Rachel, don't be upset. I'll take it off right now..."
She passed me. Grabbed my wrist. Yanked me backward hard—and threw herself toward the mirror.
"Rachel, why did you push me?!"
I wasn't ready. Stumbled back. Slammed into the mirror.
The glass cracked with a brutal sound.
Shards splintered across the surface. A sharp piece sliced into my arm.
Blood ran down my skin. Dripped onto the white carpet.
Adam rushed over.
He pulled Claire into his arms, shielding her.
"Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"
He checked her over. Made sure she was fine. Then finally looked at me.
His eyes landed on my bleeding arm. His face twisted.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Rachel?"
"Claire was helping you try on the dress, and you shove her?"
He stood between us like a wall. Didn't reach for me once.
The pain in my arm faded into numbness.
I braced myself against the wall.
Stepped carefully over the broken glass. Stood up.
"There's a camera in here. If you want to know who pushed who, check the footage yourself."
Claire tugged on his sleeve. Her voice was soft.
"It's okay. It's my fault."
I didn't wait to hear the rest. Walked out.
The second I stepped outside, my stomach clenched.
Blood was still running down my arm.
I made it a few steps before my vision went white.
My legs gave out.
Someone caught me before I hit the ground.
"Miss Moretti, careful."
I looked up. It was Nathan Shaw, CEO of Shaw Enterprises.
He handed me a handkerchief, his tone certain.
"If Adam's company isn't worth it anymore, Shaw Enterprises could use someone with your brain."
The pain made everything cold and sharp.
I took the handkerchief. Held it tight.
"I'll start work tomorrow."
Chapter 3
At the hospital, they bandaged my arm. Then I went straight to Adam's company.
I'd spent years helping him build that business.
Every original pitch deck, every project file—they were all locked in the safe in his office.
I was taking them back. After that, we'd be done.
I got to the security gate. The screen flashed red.
[Your building access has been revoked.]
The receptionist looked uncomfortable.
"Miss Moretti... Mr. Graham said you've been feeling unwell lately and don't need to come in."
I called the HR manager.
Had her unlock the gate. Went straight to the top floor.
The door to Adam's office was half-open.
Claire was sitting in his chair.
Adam was leaning over her from behind, holding her hand as she worked on his laptop.
"Adam, if I present this to Shaw tomorrow, they really won't know Rachel wrote it?"
Adam's voice was soft.
"It's in the system. That makes it ours. You're presenting it tomorrow. I'll handle the rest."
I pushed the door open.
They both turned.
Adam let go of her hand immediately. Frowned.
"How did you get in here?"
I didn't answer.
Walked straight to the safe.
Entered the code. Started pulling out my pitch decks—every original file.
Adam slammed the safe door shut.
"Rachel! It was one fight! Now you're taking the files and trying to tank tomorrow's investor meeting?!"
I looked up at him.
"You locked me out of the building. Shut down my account. Replaced me with Claire. That's just one fight?"
"Claire's covering for you temporarily! You've been a mess lately. Taking time off is better for everyone!"
Claire walked over holding a cup of coffee.
"Rachel, it's not what you think. If you don't want me here, I'll leave right now."
As she passed me, her wrist tilted.
Coffee spilled across the carpet.
She gasped.
Grabbed a bottle of industrial-strength cleaner from the desk.
Sprayed it over and over on the stain.
The chemical smell flooded the room instantly.
My chest tightened. I couldn't breathe.
I've had bad asthma since I was a kid.
Strong smells like that can make me stop breathing.
I stumbled toward the window—but they were sealed shut.
I yanked open his desk drawer looking for my emergency inhaler.
Empty.
Claire stood nearby, covering her nose.
"It's just a little cleaner. Is this really necessary?"
I couldn't speak anymore. Gripped the desk. Gasping.
My vision blurred. My legs buckled.
Papers scattered across the floor.
Adam finally noticed. He rushed over. Grabbed me.
"Where's your inhaler?"
I clutched his sleeve. Couldn't get the words out.
He started pulling me toward the door.
Behind us, Claire cried out.
She'd stepped on a piece of broken glass from the coffee mug.
Blood seeped from her foot.
"Adam, my foot. It really hurts! I have to present tomorrow. What if it gets infected?"
Adam stopped.
He looked down at me—shaking, suffocating—
then back at Claire sitting on the floor in pain.
Ten seconds later, he let go.
Shoved me toward his assistant, who'd just arrived.
His voice was cold.
"She's having an asthma attack. Take her to the hospital.
Claire has to present tomorrow. Her injury can't wait. I'm taking her first."
He scooped Claire up in his arms and bolted for the elevator.
The doors started to close.
Claire leaned against him.
Through the gap, she looked straight at me.
And smiled.
The assistant shoved me into the car. Slammed the gas.
We flew through traffic. Horns blaring. Everything spinning.
I grabbed the seat. Couldn't get air.
My stomach, which had been aching dully all day, suddenly seized.
A metallic taste filled my throat.
The car ahead swerved.
Brakes screamed.
I pitched forward—my abdomen hit something hard.
White-hot pain.
Then everything went black.
