By the time the gala ended, it was 1:00 AM.
I sat alone in the empty banquet hall, watching the crew dismantle the stage where my heart had been publicly executed.
Jonathan's assistant approached, walking on eggshells.
"Director Kaufman... Mr. Gilbert wants to see you in his office."
"Okay."
I stood, ignoring the pins and needles pricking my legs.
The door swung open to reveal Jonathan Gilbert silhouetted against floor-to-ceiling glass. Below, the city sprawled in a tapestry of flickering neon, traffic weaving ribbons of light through the urban canyon.
Five years ago, we'd stood in this exact spot. He'd vowed to hold our annual meeting at the highest point in the city.
Now he had it. Same view. Different people.
"About today." He turned, his silhouette knife-sharp against the glass. "It was strategic."
I looked up at him.
"Anna's uncle is the key to our next round of financing." He crossed the room and lowered himself into the chair opposite me, spine rigid. "I need to keep her stable."
"So misappropriating company funds to buy her a diamond ring—that's also part of this grand strategy?"
My voice was unnervingly calm. Even to my own ears.