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Her ice-blue eyes flash with fury, her porcelain skin flushing an angry red. "This isn't over," she hisses, jabbing a perfectly manicured finger in my direction. "You think you can just toss me aside for some little nobody from the typing pool? Think again. When I'm done with you, that little tramp will be running for the hills and you'll be begging me to take you back."
She storms out in a huff, but not before shooting Amara a venomous glare, as if blaming her for the demise of our romance. Once Sophia is gone, an awkward silence descends upon the room. Amara looks at me with a mix of concern and sympathy, and I can see the unspoken question in her eyes. Are you okay?
But I can't bring myself to open up about the joy-sucking-she-beast.
I let out a long exhale and meet Amara's concerned gaze. "I’m sorry you had to witness that." I feel a surge of anger and frustration, both at Sophia's theatrics and at myself for getting caught up in this mess. I know that I should have handled the breakup with more grace and finality, but now it's come back to haunt me.
She took our break up wrong and insists we give it another shot, after I told her again and again it was over.
She thinks I cheated on her so takes it upon herself to ruin any chance of happiness I might find.
Fuck me.
I start to think about the ‘43 bottle of scotch in my desk drawer.
Instead, I retreat behind my professional mask, thanking Amara for her assistance and dismissing her for the day. She leaves reluctantly, and I can sense her disappointment at my emotional withdrawal.
Over the next few days, I bury myself in work, using the mountain of tasks and responsibilities as a shield. Amara tries to engage me, to offer her support and companionship, but I keep her at arm's length. The gig is already up, the beast from hell is on to her scent.
I bury myself in work, determined to regain my momentum. Yet...something feels off. The deals that once seemed to flow so easily now stall in the eleventh hour. The ideas that were once sparks of inspiration fizzle into wisps of smoke.
Is she what I need?
Unlikely.
It's only when a charity gala comes up on our calendar that I'm forced to break my self-imposed isolation. Amara and I are both required to attend, representing the company and schmoozing with potential clients and investors. I will have to show a united front, otherwise I could come off as not in control.
As we arrive at the elegant event, I can't help but be struck by how breathtakingly beautiful Amara looks. She's a vision in a floor-length scarlet gown that hugs her curves in all the right places.
"You look..." I begin, then think better of verbalizing the thought.
"Thank you," she replies demurely, offering me a warm smile that chips away at my resistance.
Keep your head in the game, I chastise myself as we make our way inside. She's your employee, nothing more. Your star has faded lately - this gala is your chance to reignite that flame, with or without Amara's...assistance.
Yet every conversational beat, every inside joke we share with investors over glass after glass of champagne, draws me deeper under her spell. By the time the band strikes up a melodic waltz, I can resist no longer.
"May I have this dance, Miss Jeffries?" My voice is thick with desire poorly masked as formality. Her eyes sparkle knowingly, but she accepts with a regal nod. As we take to the dancefloor, I pull her lush form against me, kindling the spark smoldering between us. We move together in silence, her warm breath fanning my neck as we sway to the music's timing.
The scent of her hair, the press of her curves against my body...it's overwhelming. Intoxicating.
The walls I've established are crumbling like a sandcastle before a rising tide.
I'm a fool to think I can withstand her pull.
Sophia's shrill voice echoes in my mind - she was right all along. I've been ensnared, beguiled...bewitched by the dazzling creature in my arms.
My lips are a hairsbreadth from Amara's as the song reaches its crescendo. One motion and I could–
The shrill ring of my phone shatters the heated daze. Amara blinks, pulling away as I fumble for the device.
"Winthrop," I answer gruffly, struggling to regain my composure.
The sharp tone of my partner’s voice crackles through the phone's speaker, sober and urgent.
"Winthrop, there's an emergency at the office regarding the Zhang account. Details are still coming in, but it seems their cybersecurity team identified a potential breach."
Zhang Enterprises - our biggest client this quarter. If word got out about a system hack, the fallout could be catastrophic.
