Chapter 2

Out in the corridor, Danica pressed her back flat against the freezing marble wall, trying to slow her ragged breathing. At the end of the hall, the polished metal of the elevator doors reflected her paper-white face.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Against her will, a snowy night from three years ago flashed through her mind. Back in college, she had been the rich heiress of the Flowers family, chasing a proud scholarship student. That night, Callum had stood on the steps of the fraternity house with a cigarette between his fingers, looking down with pure contempt.

His cold laugh at his friend Coleton echoed in her ears all over again. He had said he never took her seriously and that they were bound to go their separate ways. The memory felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head, leaving her freezing from the inside out.

Danica snapped her eyes open and shook her head hard to clear the humiliation. Stepping forward in her worn flats, she walked fast toward the art department's open floor.

Back in her cramped cubicle, she slammed a heavy stack of reference books onto her desk. She swore to herself right then to treat Callum like a total stranger—nothing more than an emotionless ATM paying her wages.

Her neighbor, Chloe, leaned over the divider and lowered her voice with genuine concern.

"Danica, you look awful. Did your husband's condition get worse again?"

Danica picked up her cold mug and took a sip of coffee to hide the panic in her eyes.

"I just didn't sleep well taking care of him last night. Thanks for asking, Chloe."

At the same time, inside the luxurious top-floor CEO office, Callum stood expressionless in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Looking down at the endless Manhattan traffic, he spun a custom fountain pen between his long fingers in irritation.

A knock sounded at the door. His special assistant, Arthur Hayes, walked in holding a thick stack of documents and stood respectfully in front of the wide mahogany desk.

Callum didn't turn around.

"Pull all of Danica Flowers's HR files and background checks since she joined the company," Callum said, his cold voice echoing across the empty room. "Put them on my desk."

Arthur blinked in surprise, quickly hiding his reaction. He placed a blue folder from the top of his stack onto the corner of the desk and bowed his head.

"Mr. Jimenez, here is the information you requested."

Callum turned around. His gray-blue eyes locked onto the blue folder as if it held lethal poison, and he didn't reach for it right away.

Sitting down in his leather executive chair, he yanked his tie loose with one hand and threw it aside. Finally, he pressed his knuckles against the cover and slowly flipped open the first page.

A standard ID photo from her onboarding was clipped to the top sheet. Her features were still striking, but deep exhaustion from the grind of daily life shadowed her eyes.

Callum's fingertips brushed over the tight corners of her mouth in the photo. An invisible hand seemed to squeeze his heart so hard that his breathing stopped for a full second.

He yanked his hand back as if burned. Malice flooded back into his eyes, and he let out a cold laugh through gritted teeth.

"So you've fallen this low, Flowers."

He flipped through her pay stubs and overtime logs. Seeing the endless rows of late-night clock-outs, his brows knitted together, a flash of pain crossing his eyes before he could stop it.

He turned to the family background page. His gaze froze on the marital status box, where one black word was printed in bold ink: Married.

Callum's fingers clamped down on the folder. His knuckles turned white from the force, crushing the heavy paper with a harsh crinkling sound.

He stared at that single word in disbelief. The image of her walking away three years ago flashed before his eyes, and a massive sense of betrayal ate away at his sanity.

Callum slammed the folder down onto the desk. The loud bang echoed through the quiet room, making Arthur flinch outside the door.

Bracing both hands on the wood, Callum's chest heaved, red veins creeping into his eyes.

"You actually dared to marry someone else," he ground out between his teeth.

He picked up the internal desk phone and punched in the extension for his assistant.

"Arthur," Callum commanded, his voice dark and suffocating. "Tell Danica Flowers to bring the latest quarterly budget sheet to my office right now. If she isn't up here in five minutes, have finance process her termination."

He slammed the phone back onto the receiver and stared toward the heavy office doors, waiting for the sound of her footsteps in the hallway outside.