Chapter 11

The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Blackwood suite, but the atmosphere inside wasn’t cold for once. Macy stood at the threshold of Roman’s office, her heart light despite the faint, persistent olive tint clinging to her jawline. She had spent an hour with concealer and color-corrector, but the “herbal treatment” story was still her best defense.

“Good morning, Sir,” she said, her voice clear and without its usual defensive edge.

Roman didn’t keep his head down today. He looked up immediately, his dark eyes softening as they landed on her. “Good morning, Macy,” he replied.

Macy blinked. His tone wasn’t teasing, sharp, or icy. It was… friendly. Almost warm. It caught her off guard, making her feel more flustered than any of his pranks ever had.

“Sit down, please,” Roman gestured to the chair across from him.

Macy sat, smoothing her skirt. For a moment, they just looked at each other—two people who had spent a decade defined by a rivalry that had finally run out of steam.

“Claire told me your mother was taken to the hospital yesterday,” Roman began, his voice dropping to a concerned register. “How is she doing now? Is she stable?”

“She’s much better, thank you,” Macy said, touched by the genuine concern in his expression. “It was a respiratory flare-up, but the doctors were able to manage it. She’s home resting now.”

Roman leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “And who stays with her while you’re here at the office? Have you arranged for a nurse or a professional caretaker?”

Macy looked down at her lap, her fingers twisting together. “No. Not yet. I still have a few debts I’m clearing, and the rent… I can’t quite afford a private caretaker right now. I just check in on her during my breaks.”

Roman’s jaw tightened, not in anger, but in what looked like guilt. He looked at the vast, expensive office around them—a world away from the struggle Macy was facing. “And your commute… I saw your address in the HR files. You’re living on the far outskirts of the city. That’s a long journey every morning.”

“I’m planning to move closer,” Macy said quickly, trying to sound optimistic. “In a few months, once I’ve saved enough for a deposit. It’s all part of the plan.”

Roman stayed silent for a beat, his gaze intense. “If you need any help, Macy—financially, logistically, or otherwise—you can tell me. I mean that.”

Macy found herself momentarily speechless. She looked at the man she had called a monster only twenty-four hours ago and saw someone entirely different. “Thank you, Sir. That means a lot.”

The air between them shifted. The tension that had been a coiled spring for weeks finally began to unwind. Macy took a deep breath, deciding it was time to clear the air for good.

“Roman,” she started, using his name for the first time without a sarcastic bite. “I want to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pranked you back in high school. I was young and stupid, and I didn’t take the time to know what you were going through with your family. I humiliated you when you were already struggling, and for that, I am truly sorry.”

Roman’s expression went through a series of emotions—surprise, relief, and then a deep, quiet somberness. “I also owe you an apology, Macy. Yesterday was… it was too much. I let my past dictate my actions, and I ignored the incredible effort you put into that presentation. Claire was right; your work was the reason we got that contract. I shouldn’t have taken that moment away from you.”

Macy felt a weight lift off her chest. She gave him a small, genuine smile. “So… are we good now? Is the war over?”

Roman gave her one of his rare, sharp stares—the kind that usually meant a task was coming—but then his lips curved into a real smile. “We are good, Macy. No more pranks. I promise.”

“Oh, thank the heavens,” Macy exhaled, her natural talkativeness finally bubbling to the surface. “That’s a massive relief. Because honestly, Roman? Whatever you put in that stink bomb is a masterpiece of evil. It won’t come off! I’ve been telling the entire staff it’s an organic herbal treatment. I even had to tell my mom that! She thinks I’m ‘vibrant’ and ‘glowing’ because of some expensive mud mask!”

Roman let out a genuine, booming laugh—the first one Macy had heard since they were kids. It was a rich, melodic sound that made her heart do a strange little skip.

“Well,” Roman said, leaning back and looking quite proud of himself. “You know I was always top of the class in Chemistry. I actually formulated that mixture the day after you got me with the green powder in high school. I spent hours in my garage lab perfecting the stain-adhesion and the scent-longevity.”

Macy’s eyes widened. “Wait… you made this ten years ago?”

“I did. But back then, I was too afraid to use it. I couldn’t risk getting in trouble or being expelled; my family needed me to stay invisible. But when you walked into my office for that interview… well, I saw an opportunity to finally test the ‘Blackwood Formula.’”

“You held onto that grudge for a decade!” Macy cried, half-appalled and half-impressed.

“It was a very impactful grudge,” Roman teased.

Macy shook her head, laughing along with him. “Okay, fine. You win. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should probably go to my workstation and actually earn my keep by finishing those audit files.”

She stood up to leave, but Roman called out, “Macy?”

She turned back. “Yes, Sir?”

“It’s Roman,” he corrected softly. “When we’re in this office, you can call me Roman.”

The name felt heavy and significant in the air. Macy felt her cheeks flush a color that definitely wasn’t green. “Okay… Roman.”

“And one more thing,” he added, turning back to his laptop but keeping a slight smile on his face. “Because of the success of the government project, the board approved an incentive bonus for everyone involved. Since you did eighty percent of the legwork, you’ll be receiving a significant project incentive in your next paycheck. It should help with that apartment deposit.”

Macy felt like the world had just turned from black-and-white to technicolor. The debt, the hospital bills, the fear—it was all going to be okay. “Thank you… Roman. Really. For everything.”

She walked back to her desk, her mind spinning. She had walked in expecting a boss and walked out with… what? A friend? Something more?

As she dove into the record room files, she realized that the silence in the office was no longer cold. It was comfortable. It was a partnership.

But as the morning progressed and Macy felt herself sneaking glances at the handsome man behind the obsidian desk, she realized a new problem was forming. The war was over, but a new, much more dangerous feeling was beginning to take its place.

Chapter 12

Macy sat at her desk inside the CEO’s cabin, surrounded by a fortress of manila folders and digital spreadsheets. The audit felt like a giant mountain she was trying to move with a teaspoon. Even with her newfound motivation, the sheer volume of data from the two record rooms was staggering. If I work through lunch every day and stay until 8:00 PM, I might—just might—finish the first room by Tuesday, she calculated, biting the end of her pen.

She was so deeply immersed in a last two years tax filing that she didn’t hear the soft click of Roman’s dress shoes on the floor.

Tap. Tap.

Macy jumped, nearly knocking over her pen holder. She stood up immediately, her heart racing. Roman was standing there, looking down at her with an expression that was halfway between a smirk and an apology. He held out a small glass bottle filled with a clear, odorless liquid.

“Use this,” Roman said, his voice quiet. “Apply it to a cotton pad and wipe the areas where the dye is most stubborn. It breaks down the pigment immediately.”

Macy took the bottle, looking at it like it was liquid gold. “You… you made an antidote?”

“I told you I was good at Chemistry, Macy,” he said, the teasing glint returning to his eyes. “I wouldn’t let you walk around looking like Shrek’s daughter forever. It would be bad for the company’s aesthetic.”

Macy laughed, a genuine, lighthearted sound. “Thank you. Truly. My skin was starting to feel like it belonged to a lizard.”

She looked back at the mountain of files, her smile faltering slightly. “Roman… can I ask you something? And please, don’t take it the wrong way. This audit work… did you give it to me as part of the revenge? Because looking at these dates, it feels like a lifetime of work for one person.”

Roman’s expression turned serious. He leaned against the edge of her desk, crossing his arms. “No, Macy. The audit is very real, and the timeline is very tight. Blackwood Industries is expanding, and the federal regulators need everything in order. However,” he paused, watching her reaction, “I realized the workload was skewed. Claire mentioned that Sophie is joining us next week from the Finance department to assist you. Also, the audit date has been pushed back by an extra day, which should give you some breathing room.”

Macy felt a wave of relief. “That’s good news. If Sophie is there, we’ll be twice as fast. She’s a machine with numbers.”

“If you still feel overwhelmed by Wednesday, tell me,” Roman added. “I’ll pull a temporary clerk from the pool to handle the scanning. I want it done right, but I don’t want you to collapse under a pile of paper.”

Macy beamed at him. “I should be able to finish. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Good,” Roman said, straightening his suit jacket. “I’m heading out for a site visit at the new tech hub. I won’t be back for the rest of the day, so you’re in charge of the cabin. I’ll see you on Monday.”

He turned to leave, but stopped at the door, glancing back one last time. “Don’t work too late, Macy. That’s an order.”

As soon as the elevator pings echoed through the hall, Macy grabbed her phone and sprinted to the executive washroom, messaging Claire to meet her there.

Five minutes later, Claire was standing by the sinks, watching in awe as Macy wiped the “solution” across her forehead. The green pigment didn’t just fade; it vanished instantly, leaving Macy’s pale, clear skin behind.

“Wow,” Claire whispered. “He really is a genius. It’s like magic.”

“It’s not magic, it’s a grudge-fueled science experiment,” Macy joked, scrubbing her chin. “He told me he’s had this formula ready since high school. Remember when he dropped that ‘cleaning solution’ in my Barbie bag and it turned from pink to grey?”

Claire burst out laughing. “I remember! You cried for three days because that bag was ‘limited edition.’ I’m so glad you both finally listened to me and called a truce. I can see a change in him, Macy. He’s… lighter. He definitely has a soft spot for you.”

Macy looked at her reflection in the mirror, her cheeks pink (and not from dye). “I don’t know about that. But I’m just glad the pranks are over. I can finally breathe. I can’t imagine how much relief he must have felt the day he graduated and didn’t have to look over his shoulder for me anymore.”

“Past is past,” Claire said, waving her hand dismissively. “Now, let’s talk about the best part of the week. It’s Friday! The government contract is signed, the green is gone, and the paycheck is in the bank. We need to party.”

Macy shook her head, her expression softening. “I can’t, Claire. My mom had a rough day yesterday. I need to be home with her. I don’t want her being alone for too long.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Claire smiled knowingly. “Which is why I already called Sophie. We aren’t going to a club. We’re coming to your place! We’re going to buy a mountain of Chinese takeout, some fancy drinks, and we’re going to have a simple reunion right in your living room.”

Macy’s eyes widened. “Really? You guys would come all the way out to my neighborhood?”

“In a heartbeat,” Claire said. “Now, finish cleaning your face. We’ve got a lot of gossiping to do and only two days of weekend to do it in.”

That evening, the small apartment was filled with a rare, beautiful noise: the sound of three women laughing. The tiny kitchen table was covered in red cardboard boxes and half-empty glasses of sparkling cider.

Sophie sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa where Bethany was resting comfortably, wrapped in a warm blanket.

“So let me get this straight,” Sophie said, her mouth full of noodles. “You walked into his office, screamed at him about your money, and instead of firing you, he manually overrode the entire banking system to pay you? Macy, that’s not a boss. That’s a knight in a very expensive suit.”

“He was just being professional!” Macy argued, though she was smiling.

“Professional? Please,” Claire chimed in from the kitchen where she was pouring more drinks. “He’s been watching her like a hawk. And the incentive bonus? He didn’t have to give her that much. He’s trying to take care of her.”

Bethany smiled from the sofa, her voice soft but clear. “I like the sound of this Mr. Blackwood. He seems like a good man, Macy. Even if he did turn you green for a day.”

“He’s okay, Mom,” Macy said, tucking the blanket around her mother’s feet.

As the night went on, the conversation turned to their time at school and college days. They talked about the old teachers, the failed dances, and the way they had all changed. Macy looked at her two best friends and then at her mother, who looked happier than she had in months.

For the first time since her father died, Macy felt like the “Queen” she always pretended to be. Not because of a prank or a crown, but because she was surrounded by people who truly cared about her.

As she stood on the small balcony later that night, looking out at the distant lights of the city, she thought about Monday. She thought about the obsidian desk, the smell of expensive coffee, and the man who had spent ten years waiting to see her again.

The war was over, but as she looked at the little glass bottle of antidote in her hand, she realized that Roman Blackwood had done more than just clean her face. He had cleared the way for something she never expected: a future she actually wanted to stay for.

Chapter 13

The atmosphere at Blackwood Industries had shifted from a battlefield to a well-oiled machine. With Sophie officially joining the team in the record room, the daunting mountain of paperwork had become a bustling base of operations. To Macy’s shock, Roman hadn’t stopped at just hiring Sophie; he had authorized a temporary clerk specifically for scanning, allowing Macy to focus on the high-level reconciliation.

Despite the lighter workload, a strange hollow feeling settled in Macy’s chest. The office felt too quiet. Roman was deep in the trenches of a site visit for their new overseas branch, leaving Macy to manage a suite that felt far too large without his presence. He had checked in only via brief, professional emails, stating he would return specifically for the final audit.

During lunch, the three friends reclaimed their corner table in the cafeteria. Macy, now completely free of any green tint, looked radiant in a soft lavender blouse.

“Look at that skin,” Sophie teased, poking Macy’s cheek. “The ‘Roman Remedy’ really worked. You’re glowing, Macy. Or is that just the glow of someone who misses her boss?”

“I am being purely professional,” Macy insisted, though her eyes brightened at the mention of him. “And for your information, Sophie, Roman actually remembers you. He’s convinced you were my secret accomplice in high school.”

Sophie laughed, nearly choking on her water. “Maybe I should come clean! I did hold the ladder once when we were taping that sign to the gym ceiling.”

“Stop it,” Macy groaned. “Let’s talk about someone else. Sophie, what about Blake? You haven’t mentioned him in weeks. Is he still the ‘perfect’ boyfriend?”

Sophie’s smile faltered, replaced by a cold, sharp bitterness. “No. We broke up. He’s bad news, Macy. It turns out he wasn’t looking for a partner; he was looking for a bank account to fund his drug habit. And he was cheating on me the entire time.”

Macy reached across the table to squeeze Sophie’s hand. “Oh, Sophie. I’m so sorry. When I met him, I thought he was so charming.”

“That’s how they get you,” Sophie sighed. “He actually asked for your number several times. He had an eye on you, but I knew better than to let him near you. He followed me for a while after the breakup, trying to get money, but I think he found a new target. I haven’t seen him lately, and I hope it stays that way. I’m done with toxic people.”

The table went quiet for a moment, the weight of Sophie’s experience hanging in the air. To break the tension, Sophie turned to Claire. “And what about our resident Cupid? Who is the lucky guy in Claire’s life?”

Claire’s face turned a brilliant shade of crimson. She toyed with her salad, looking everywhere but at her friends. “I… I like someone. But I have no idea if he’s even single, let alone interested.”

“Who?” Macy and Sophie asked in unison, leaning in like hungry hawks.

“Promise you won’t say a word?” Claire warned. “Especially not to Roman?”

“Double promise,” Macy said, crossing her heart.

“It’s Sebastian,” Claire whispered. “Roman’s friend.”

Macy gasped. “Seb? He’s great! He’s a bit of a nerd, but in a very handsome, scholarly way. He was here last week, Claire. I saw the way he looked at you when you handed him his coffee. He wasn’t just saying ‘thank you’; he was admiring the view!”

“Do you really think so?” Claire asked, a spark of hope in her eyes. “He’s only visited a few times, and we usually just exchange pleasantries. He’s so brilliant, I always feel like I’m going to say something silly.”

“He’s Roman’s best friend,” Macy encouraged. “If he’s anything like Roman, he probably likes the ‘sweet and steady’ type. Don’t worry, we’ll help you find out.”

The following day, the relaxed atmosphere evaporated. The office was a hive of activity as the Engineering department welcomed a new manager, Owen Brooks. Claire was swept away in onboarding him, leaving Macy and Sophie to handle the final surge of the audit preparation alone.

By 3:00 PM, disaster struck. The temporary clerk Roman had hired simply didn’t show up. He had ghosted the assignment, leaving a massive backlog of un-scanned documents that were vital for the morning’s inspection.

“We were supposed to be done by now,” Macy said, her voice tensed as she stared at the three remaining crates. “The auditors arrive at 9:00 AM tomorrow. If these aren’t digitized, Roman is going to look like he’s hiding something.”

Sophie tied her hair back into a determined bun. “Then we stay late. We’ll finish this tonight if we have to. It’s just us against the paper, Macy. We’ve survived high school; we can survive a few crates.”

“You’re right,” Macy said, though a strange, prickling sensation crawled up her neck. The building was beginning to empty out, the usual hum of voices replaced by the heavy silence of the evening. “We’ll work until it’s done.”

Macy looked out the window at the setting sun. She felt a sudden, sharp pang of longing for Roman. She wished he was in the other room, even if it was just to ask for coffee or tease her about her “herbal treatment.”

She didn’t know that as the moon rose over the city, she wouldn’t just be fighting a deadline but a danger.

Chapter 14

The fluorescent lights of the record room hummed, the only sound in the cavernous office suite as Macy and Sophie tackled the final bundle of the audit. Claire had left hours ago for a family gathering, leaving the two best friends to finish the “mountain” they had been climbing all week.

“Almost there, Macy,” Sophie said, her voice strained with exhaustion. “Fifteen minutes and we are officially audit-ready.”

Just as Macy reached for the stapler, Sophie’s phone vibrated violently against the desk. Sophie picked it up, and in an instant, the color drained from her face. “What? When? I’m coming right now!”

“Sophie? What’s wrong?” Macy asked, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“There’s a fire in my apartment complex, Macy! The neighbor just called—it started two floors below me. I have to go!” Sophie was already grabbing her bag, her hands shaking.

“Go! Go right now!” Macy urged, her own panic rising. “Don’t worry about the files, I’ll finish the last ten pages. Just update me as soon as you know you’re safe!”

“I was supposed to drive you home,” Sophie said, pausing at the door. “Take my keys, take my car—”

“No, you’ll get there faster if you drive yourself. I’ll call a cab,” Macy promised. “Just go, Sophie!”

“Don’t take the bus, Macy! Promise me you’ll take a cab directly to your door!” Sophie shouted as she ran toward the elevators.

By 9:00 PM, Macy clicked the final file shut. She was exhausted, her eyes burning, but the work was done. She walked out of the Blackwood tower and checked her phone. The ride-share apps were showing a forty-minute wait due to a massive concert delay downtown, and the streets were gridlocked with cars.

The bus will be faster, she thought, ignoring Sophie’s warning. I just want to get home to Mom.

The bus was packed at first, but as it groaned toward the outskirts of the city, it emptied out. Two stops away from her house, in a desolate industrial stretch where the streetlights were flickering and sparse, the bus let out a loud, mechanical metallic bang and shuddered to a halt.

“Engine’s dead,” the driver grunted. “Everyone off. Next bus is thirty minutes out.”

The other two passengers, a pair of construction workers, disappeared down a side street. Macy was left alone on the cracked sidewalk. The area was a wasteland of abandoned warehouses and half-demolished brick buildings. She began to walk, her heels clicking rhythmically, her hand tight on her purse.

“Hey, babe.”

The voice was like a cold needle against her neck. She spun around. Standing there, shrouded in a black hoodie that smelled of stale chemicals and something far worse, was a man with frantic, hollowed-out eyes.

“Blake,” Macy whispered, her blood turning to ice.

“Sophie’s little princess,” Blake sneered, stepping into the dim light. He swayed slightly, his pupils dilated to the edges of his irises. “I know she told you all about me.

“She broke up with you, Blake. Leave me alone or I’m calling the police,” Macy said, her voice trembling as she backed away.

“The police aren’t here, Macy. It’s just us.” He lunged, grabbing her wrist with a grip that felt like iron.

Macy screamed, a raw, piercing sound that was swallowed by the empty buildings. She twisted her arm, her adrenaline surging, and managed to rip her hand away. She didn’t look back; she simply ran. She ducked into a narrow alleyway between two looming structures, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

But as she reached the end of the alley, her heart stopped. A tall, rusted chain-link fence topped with barbed wire blocked her path. A dead end.

She turned around, her back against the cold, damp brick. Blake was walking toward her, laughing—a wet, jagged sound that made her stomach churn.

“No one’s gonna save you, baby,” he crooned, pulling his hoodie back. “From the day I saw you, I was thinking about how you’d look under those fancy office clothes. Just give me thirty minutes. I’ll make it quick.”

Macy screamed again as he threw himself at her. He was deceptively strong, fueled by whatever was in his system. He pinned her against the wall, his hands fumbling at her clothes. With a violent tug, he ripped her blouse open, the buttons scattering like hail on the concrete. Macy fought, clawing at his face, sobbing as she felt the cold air hit her skin.

“Please!” she shrieked. “Stop!”

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over them. A sharp, sickening thud echoed through the alley as a heavy object—a discarded wooden beam—connected with the side of Blake’s head.

Blake let out a guttural groan and stumbled back, clutching his skull. Before he could recover, a fist connected with his jaw, followed by a brutal kick to his midsection that sent him sprawling into the trash heaps.

“Get up,” a voice growled—a voice that was low, dangerous, and filled with a terrifying rage. “Get up so I can kill you.”

Blake, realizing he was outmatched, scrambled to his feet and sprinted out of the alley, disappearing into the darkness of the main road.

Macy stood frozen against the wall, her arms wrapped around herself, shaking so violently she could barely stand. The figure turned toward her. The moonlight caught the sharp line of his jaw and the frantic, worried expression in his eyes.

“Roman,” she breathed, her voice a broken whisper.

Without a word, Roman stripped off his own suit jacket. He stepped forward and gently draped it over her shivering shoulders, covering her torn shirt.

Macy didn’t think. She didn’t remember the pranks, the green powder, or the office hierarchies. She lunged forward, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. She sobbed, her entire body racking with the trauma of the last ten minutes.

Roman’s arms wrapped around her instantly, pulling her so tight it felt like he was trying to shield her from the very air. He buried his face in her hair, his own chest heaving. “I’ve got you,” he muttered, his voice thick and strained. “I’ve got you, Macy. You’re safe. I’m here.”

He held her for a long time, letting her cry until the shivering began to subside. He could feel her heart racing against his own, a frantic rhythm that he vowed to never let happen again.

After few minutes, he pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands cupping her face, his thumbs wiping away her tears. “Come on,” he said softly, his gaze filled with a protective fire. “Let’s get you out of here.”

As he led her toward his car, Macy looked at the man she once thought was her enemy. She realized that the “chemistry” between them had shifted once again—this time into something deep, primal, and undeniably real.

Chapter 15

The interior of Roman’s car was quiet, the only sound the low hum of the heater fighting the night chill. Macy sat in the passenger seat, still wrapped in Roman’s oversized suit jacket. The scent of him—cedarwood and something uniquely sharp and clean—seemed to act as a physical anchor, keeping her from drifting back into the panic of the alleyway.

Roman glanced at her, his hands tight on the steering wheel. He could see her fingers trembling as she clutched the lapels of his coat.

“You’re still shaking, Macy,” he said softly. “If you go home like this, your mother will know something is wrong. She’ll see it in your eyes before you even say a word.”

Macy took a ragged breath. He was right. Her mother’s health was fragile, and the shock of seeing Macy in this state might send her back to the hospital. “You’re right. I just… I need a moment to settle.”

“Let’s get some coffee and something light to eat,” Roman suggested. “We’ll sit for a bit. Call your mother first, just to make sure she’s okay.”

With trembling hands, Macy pulled out her phone. She took several deep breaths, trying to steady her voice before hitting the dial.

“Hi, Mom? It’s me,” Macy said, forced cheerfulness masking the cracks in her voice. “Listen, I’m going to be a little late. The audit prep took longer than expected, and a few of us are grabbing a quick bite. Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine, honey,” Bethany’s weary but warm voice came through the speaker. “I managed to do a few small things around the house and had some porridge. I’m actually headed to bed now. Just use your spare key when you get in. Don’t work too hard, butterfly.”

“I won’t, Mom. Sleep well. I love you.”

Macy hung up and let out a long, shaky sigh. “She’s going to sleep. I have time.”

Roman drove to a small, 24-hour coffee shop tucked away from the main road. It was quiet, the air smelling of toasted bread and roasted beans. They sat in a corner booth, the dim amber lighting making the world outside feel far away.

“Stay here,” Roman said. He returned a few minutes later with a tray. “Sandwiches, a lemon tart, and a hot coffee. And don’t worry,” he added with a small, cautious smile, “I personally watched them put in the sugar. Not a grain of salt in sight.”

Macy let out a weak laugh. The callback to their earlier war felt like a lifetime ago. As the warmth of the coffee cup seeped into her hands, she realized she was ravenous. She took a large bite of the sandwich, the simple flavors grounding her. Roman ate quietly across from her, his presence providing a silent, steady protection that she found herself leaning into.

“How did you know, Roman?” she asked after a few minutes, her voice finally steady. “How did you find me on that specific street?”

Roman set his cup down. “I came back early from the site visit because I wanted to check on the audit files. The security guard mentioned you’d left for the bus. I tried to call you to see if you’d made it home—it was late, and I know that route isn’t the best—but your phone was unreachable.”

He leaned forward, his eyes locked onto hers. “I decided to drive toward your house just to be sure. I saw the broken-down bus and the mechanics, and since it was the last one for the night, I figured you were walking. I was looking for you when I heard the scream. I didn’t think… I just ran.”

Macy closed her eyes for a second, a shiver passing through her. “I am so glad you did. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t.”

“The man,” Roman said, his voice hardening. “Who was he? Did you know him?”

“He’s Sophie’s ex-boyfriend, Blake,” Macy explained, her voice dropping. “He’s bad news—drugs, tempers. Sophie warned me that he’d been asking about me, but I didn’t think he’d be desperate enough to follow me.”

Roman’s jaw tightened. “He won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of it.”

They finished their meal in a comfortable silence. The frantic energy of the night had slowed into something deeper—a mutual understanding.

The drive to Macy’s apartment was short. When Roman pulled up to the curb, he turned off the engine.

“Take tomorrow off, Macy,” he said. “The audit is important, but your mental state is more important. I can handle the auditors with Claire and Sophie.”

Macy shook her head immediately. “No. We worked too hard on those files. I want to be there, Roman. I need to be.”

Roman studied her for a moment, seeing the old fire flickering back to life in her eyes. “If you’re sure. But the second you feel overwhelmed, you tell me.”

“I will.” Macy began to shrug out of his suit jacket to give it back, but Roman reached out and stopped her, his hand resting gently on her arm.

“Keep it,” he said.

“But… if my mom sees me in a man’s blazer, she’s going to have questions,” Macy pointed out.

“And if she sees your torn blouse, she’ll have even more,” Roman countered with a faint smile. “Tell her a story, Macy. You’re good at that. Tell her it’s a new fashion trend, or you borrowed it from Claire. Just get inside safely.”

“Goodnight, Roman said.

Macy looked at the jacket, then back at him. Thank you. For everything.”

“Goodnight Roman,” Macy said, pausing at the car door. “You’ll be in the office tomorrow, right?”

“I will,” Roman replied. He leaned back, a familiar, sarcastic glint returning to his eyes. “Why? Did you actually miss me today, Rivers?”

Macy felt a flush creep up her neck—a real one this time. She didn’t snap back with a sarcastic comment. She just gave him a small, knowing smile, stepped out of the car, and walked toward her door.

Roman waited. He sat in the idling car until he saw the light in her hallway flick on and heard the distinct click of the deadbolt sliding into place. Only then did he shift the car into gear and drive away.

Inside, Macy stood in the dark hallway, listening to her mother’s rhythmic breathing from the other room. She looked at her reflection in the mirror—disheveled, wearing a billionaire’s coat, her heart a confusing mess of trauma and a new, terrifyingly sweet affection.

She carefully hid the torn shirt in the bottom of her hamper and hung Roman’s jacket in the back of her closet, pressing her face into the fabric for just a second before going to bed. Tomorrow was the audit. Tomorrow, they would face the world together. But tonight, for the first time in years, Macy Rivers felt like someone was finally looking out for her.

Chapter 16

The atmosphere in Blackwood Industries was electric. For six hours, the office was a whirlwind of clicking keyboards, rushing interns, and the low, serious hum of the audit representatives. Macy, Sophie, and Claire barely had time to share a glance, let alone a conversation. Macy caught glimpses of Roman through the glass walls of the conference room—he looked every bit the powerful titan, calm and authoritative, though his eyes seemed to find Macy every time she walked past the door.

By 4:00 PM, the storm had passed. The lead auditor shook Roman’s hand, signed the final clearance forms, and exited the building. A collective sigh of relief rippled through the eleventh floor.

In the cafeteria, the three friends collapsed into their usual booth, the steam from their coffees the only thing keeping them awake.

“We did it,” Sophie exhaled, leaning her head back. “My eyes are literally vibrating from looking at spreadsheets, but we did it. A perfect audit.”

“Our first big project,” Macy added, her skin glowing despite the fatigue. “And not a single error. I think I might actually be cut out for this corporate life.”

“It’s true,” Claire added with a grin. “The auditors couldn’t find a single loophole. I’ve never seen Roman look so proud—he was practically glowing.”

Macy turned to Sophie, her expression shifting to concern. “Hey, speaking of home, how is your apartment?”

Claire, who was still in the dark about the previous night’s chaos, looked confused. “Wait, what happened to your apartment, Sophie?”

Sophie’s expression darkened. “It wasn’t just a scare, Claire. I’ve officially vacated. The structural damage is bad due to fire. I’m living out of a suitcase in a temporary hotel for the next week until I find a permanent spot.”

“Wait,” Macy said, her brain clicking into gear. Sophie, if you’re looking too, why don’t we find a place together? I can’t afford a nice place on my own, but together, we could get something great for my mom and us.”

Sophie’s eyes brightened instantly. “Are you serious? Macy, that would be a lifesaver!”

“Actually,” Claire chimed in enthusiastically, “there’s a vacant three-bedroom unit in my building. The neighborhood is incredibly safe, it’s a ten-minute walk to work, and I can talk to my landlord about a ‘friends and family’ discount. We could be neighbors!”

“That would be perfect!” Macy said, feeling a surge of hope.

Sophie nodded, then paused, looking at Macy curiously. “Wait, speaking of yesterday… did you get home okay? You took the cab like I told you, right?”

Macy opened her mouth to answer, but before she could utter a word, her phone buzzed. Incoming Call: Roman.

Macy answered quickly, her tone shifting into work mode. “Sophie and I will be at your office in just a minute.”

“He wants to see us,” Macy said, standing up. “Sophie, come on. Claire, wait for us? We’ll check out that apartment right after this.”

Inside Roman’s cabin, the air was different. The “teasing” Roman was gone, replaced by the “CEO” Roman. He sat behind his obsidian desk, his hands steepled, his expression unreadable.

“Sit,” he commanded.

Macy and Sophie sat.

“I am completely disappointed in both of you,” Roman began, his voice low and stern.

Sophie’s jaw dropped. “Sir, actually—” Sophie started, but Roman held up a hand to stop her.

“Call me Roman,” he corrected gently.

Sophie blinked, then nodded.

Roman—actually, the work was perfect. The auditors said—”

“I am not talking about the work,” Roman cut her off, leaning forward. “I am talking about the fact that you both worked until 9:00 PM in an empty building. Why wasn’t I notified that the temporary staff ghosted you? Why didn’t you call Claire? Or me?”

“We didn’t want to mess up our first big task,” Sophie said quietly.

“I value dedication,” Roman said, his voice softening into concern, “but I value my employees’ safety more. I have never asked anyone in this company to stay past 5:00 PM without security clearance. Hard work is one thing, but smart work is knowing when to ask for backup.”

He looked at Sophie. “You left early because of the fire. You thought Macy was taking a cab.”

“She was supposed to!” Sophie said, looking at Macy.

“She didn’t,” Roman said, his eyes narrowing. “Your ex-boyfriend, Blake, attacked her near the industrial district. He escaped, but the police have his description.”

Sophie’s coffee cup nearly slipped from her hand. “What? Macy! Why didn’t you tell me? Is he… is he gone?”

“He’s gone for now,” Roman said firmly. “It would be much safer if she moved closer to the office immediately.” “We actually just talked about that,” Sophie chimed in. “I’m looking for a place too, so we’ve decided to find an apartment together and split the costs.”

Roman nodded, looking genuinely relieved. “That’s a smart move. Do it quickly.

If you need a relocation bonus to make it happen faster, tell Claire.”

“Thanks, Roman,” Sophie said, appreciative of the rare offer.

Sophie was shaking her head in guilt. “I’m so sorry, Macy. I should have stayed.”

“It’s okay, Sophie,” Macy whispered.

“The work was crystal clear,” Roman added, a small, proud smile finally breaking his stern mask. “The auditors were stunned. But from now on, 5:00 PM means the lights go out. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Roman,” they said in unison.

As they stood to leave, Roman called out, “Macy. Stay back. I need a coffee.”

Sophie gave Macy a knowing, wide-eyed look and whispered, “I’ll wait at my desk. You owe me the full story!”

Macy walked over to the coffee machine, her heart doing that strange, rhythmic thumping again. As she handed the cup to Roman, his hand reached out and gently caught her wrist. He turned her arm over, exposing a thin, red scratch mark near her thumb.

“Is this from yesterday?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. His thumb brushed against her skin, and Macy felt a literal jolt of electricity shoot up her arm.

“It’s nothing,” she stammered, her face heating up. “Just a scratch from the fence.”

“Take care of yourself, Macy,” he said, his gaze lingering on her face. “I mean it.”

Macy pulled her hand back, her pulse racing. “Are you… are you coming to the office tomorrow? Or is it more site visits?”

Roman leaned back, a familiar, sarcastic smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Why? You seem awfully desperate to have me around, Ms. Rivers. Missing your favorite target?”

“I… no! I just meant… if I have questions about the new project filings, it’s easier if you’re here,” Macy lied, her talkativeness failing her for once.

“Really?” Roman teased, his eyes dancing. “Just for the filings?”

“I’m leaving!” Macy announced, her face a bright shade of crimson as she speed-walked toward the door.

She burst out of the office to find Sophie and Claire standing there like a two-woman jury, their arms crossed.

“Okay,” Claire said, pointing a finger at Macy. “No more made-up stories.”′ You owe us every single detail about last night. Talk. Now.”

Macy looked at her two best friends and realized there was no escape. “Fine,” she sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. “But we’re doing this over the biggest pizza in the city.”

Chapter 17

Macy sat in the middle of the floor, the last of the pizza crusts long forgotten. Sophie and Claire were staring at her with such intensity that they had completely stopped chewing. Macy had just finished the harrowing account of the bus breaking down, the dark alley, Blake’s terrifying attack, and Roman’s sudden, violent intervention.

“I’ll make sure that Blake gets his jail time,” Sophie said, her voice trembling with a mixture of fury and guilt. “I won’t let him get away with touching you, Macy.” “I will make sure Blake spends every second of his miserable life behind bars for touching you, Macy. I swear it.”

“He’s gone for now, Sophie,” Macy said softly.

Claire, however, was looking at the bigger picture, her eyes wide with realization. She leaned forward, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Macy… Roman definitely likes you.” There is no other explanation.”

Macy looked at her friend, though her heart did a familiar skip she shook her head quickly,. “I think that’s completely out of the question, Claire. He was just being a responsible boss.”

“Nope,” Sophie chimed in, pointing a finger at Macy. “Claire is right. Think about it. The security guard mentioned both of our names for leaving the office late. Why did Roman follow your route and not mine? Why was he looking for you specifically?”

Macy’s voice wavered as she tried to find a logical explanation. “That… that’s just because he knows my address. He knows I live in the outskirts and that it’s a dangerous commute.”

Sophie leaned in with a teasing smile. “Macy, there are more than five thousand employees working in Blackwood Industries. Do you really think he has everyone’s home address memorized? Does he know where every janitor and clerk lives?”

“I wonder if Roman knows my address.” “I’ve worked for him for years, and I’m pretty sure he couldn’t tell you if I lived in a penthouse or a cardboard box. He was looking for you, Macy.” Claire added playfully, tapping her chin.

Macy blinked, her mind racing. She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. She didn’t know what excuse to give them that would sound even remotely believable. Luckily, Claire’s phone chimed at that exact second.

“That’s the landlord,” Claire announced, checking the message. “He’ll be at the building in fifteen minutes. Come on, girls, let’s go!”

The apartment was stunning. It was everything Macy had dreamed of. It was far more spacious and decent than Macy had imagined. Located in a stately brick building only ten minutes away from the office, bright, and airy. As they walked through, Macy felt a pang of worry. She wondered if she could afford even half of the rent; the place looked like it cost a fortune.

“Don’t worry,” Claire whispered, sensing her friend’s hesitation. “The landlord is a very sweet person. He won’t charge us an arm and a leg.” The landlord is an old family friend. I told him your situation.

They toured the three-bedroom unit, taking in the vast living room, the sprawling kitchen, and a large balcony that let in a beautiful breeze. The ventilation was perfect, and the whole place felt lively and full of potential. After a short talk with the landlord, and thanks to Claire’s enthusiastic recommendation, they managed to secure the apartment at a surprisingly good price.

When Macy returned home and told her mother about the shift, Beatrice was overjoyed. The move happened that very weekend. It was a blur of heavy lifting and packing, but Macy felt a massive weight lift off her shoulders. Sophie moved in her three suitcases, and Beatrice—Macy’s mother—was overjoyed. As she sat in her new sun-drenched bedroom, Beatrice looked at Macy with tears in her eyes. “You’ve done so well, my butterfly. We’re finally home.”

Everything was finally moving in a positive direction. Her mom was safe, she had her friends nearby, and the office was no longer a place of war.

Monday morning arrived with a crisp, hopeful energy. Macy dressed in a sharp navy suit, her hair perfectly styled. She felt invincible.

Macy walked into the Blackwood tower with a new spring in her step. She was buzzing with enthusiasm. She couldn’t wait to see Roman and tell him the news—that she had moved to an apartment just ten minutes away and that she was finally settled, she, Sophie, and Claire were now officially neighbors.

She walked into the CEO’s cabin, a smile already forming on her lips. But as she stepped inside, the smile froze. The greeting died in her throat.

Roman was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a strikingly beautiful blonde girl was sitting comfortably in Roman’s high-backed leather chair, her manicured nails tapping rhythmically on the obsidian surface as if she belonged there.

Macy stopped in her tracks, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Who are you?”

The blonde girl looked up, her blue eyes sharp and cold. She didn’t stand up. “Who are you to be asking me these things?” she countered arrogantly.

“I am the CEO’s Personal Assistant,” she said, trying to keep her voice professional.

“Can I help you?” Macy asked, her professional mask slipping into confusion. “Mr. Blackwood isn’t in yet.”

“I’m aware,” the blonde girl said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. She just leaned back, looking around the room as if she already owned the air inside it.

“I am the future owner of this place.“, the blonde girl said

Macy felt a chill run down her spine.

The blonde girl let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Oh! So you’re my future husband’s PA? How lovely. I am Roman’s fiancée.”

Macy stood there, the air leaving her lungs in a sudden, painful rush. She stared at the girl in total shock, the words echoing in her head like a death knell. Fiancée?

Chapter 18

Macy stood frozen, the oxygen in the room feeling thinner with every passing second. The word fiancée clanged in her ears like a heavy iron bell. She looked at the blonde woman, who was still lounging in the chair with an air of effortless superiority. Macy’s mind raced through the last few weeks—the way Roman had protected her, the way he had looked at her in the alleyway. Had it all been a game? Or was she just a temporary distraction for a man who already had his life planned out with a woman who looked like she stepped off a runway?

The blonde woman let out a long, bored sigh, tapping her perfectly manicured nails against the obsidian desk. “Why are you still standing there like a statue?” she asked, her voice sharp and cold. “Go and bring me a coffee. And make sure you don’t add any sugar. I have a figure to maintain, and I’m sure you have work to do.”

Just as Macy was about to find her voice, the heavy oak door swung open. Roman stepped inside, his eyes fixed on a file in his hand. “Macy, I forgot to mention—”

He stopped mid-sentence. His eyes drifted from Macy’s pale, hurt face to the woman sitting in his chair. For a heartbeat, the room was deathly silent. Roman’s expression shifted from professional focus to utter confusion, and then, finally, to a visible, jarring shock.

“Christy?” Roman’s voice was low, laced with a disbelief that bordered on anger. “Why are you here?”

Christy stood up instantly, her cold demeanor vanishing behind a mask of sugary sweetness. she moved toward him with a practiced grace. “Honey! I just wanted to give you a surprise. It’s been so long, and I couldn’t wait another day to see you.”

Roman didn’t move toward her. His jaw was tight, his gaze flicking back to Macy, who was watching the scene with eyes that felt like they were stinging with unshed tears. “What you are doing is not right,” Roman said to Christy, his voice stern.

He turned to Macy, his tone softening but remaining authoritative. “Macy, wait outside for a while. And don’t let anyone in until I’ve finished this conversation.”

Macy felt a hollow ache in her chest. She felt like a stranger in a room where, only minutes ago, she thought she belonged. “Sir,” she said, her voice sounding defeated and small. “She… she asked for a coffee. Shall I bring it now?”

Roman looked at her, a visible question mark in his eyes as if he couldn’t believe she was worrying about coffee at a time like this. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll take care of it.”

Christy let out a tinkling, artificial laugh. “Oh, it’s quite alright, Macy. Roman knows exactly how I like my coffee—he’s had plenty of practice. You can leave now. And do make sure no one disturbs our… privacy.”

Macy didn’t wait for a second invitation. She turned and walked out, closing the door behind her. As the latch clicked, she heard the distinct sound of the lock turning. Then, the electronic hum of the motorized curtains echoed through the wall as they slid shut, sealing the office off from the rest of the world.

The sound of the lock was like a physical blow. Macy walked to her desk and sat down, her hands shaking as she stared at her computer screen. The bright enthusiasm she had felt this morning was gone, replaced by a cold, numbing reality. I shouldn’t have let him in, she thought bitterly. I let my guard down. I’m at fault. I should have remembered that he is a powerful CEO and I am… I am no one. A ghost from high school that he felt sorry for.

She stared at the monitor, the spreadsheets blurring into a mess of grey lines. She felt like a fool for believing that a man like Roman Blackwood could truly care for someone like her when women like Christy existed in his world.

“Are you Macy?”

The voice was deep and professional, pulling her out of the dark spiral of her thoughts. Macy blinked and looked up. Standing in front of her desk was a tall, handsome man. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored grey suit, and he carried himself with an air of calm confidence that was far less intimidating than Roman’s brooding intensity.

“Yes,” Macy said, quickly smoothing her hair and trying to find her professional mask. “Yes, I’m Macy. May I help you, Sir?”

The man smiled, and it was a warm, genuine expression. “I’m Owen Brooks. I joined recently as a Project Manager in the Engineering department. I was looking for some specific data reports for the new hub, and when I checked with Claire, she told me you were the person to talk to.”

Macy forced a smile, her natural hospitality kicking in despite the weight on her heart. “Please tell me, Sir, what kind of reports are you looking for?”

“I’ve just mailed the specifics to you,” Owen said, leaning slightly against the edge of her desk. He noticed the ‘Sir’ she had used. “And please, don’t call me Sir. Call me Owen.”

The words hit Macy like a lightning bolt. It was the exact same thing Roman had said to her when they had first started to mend their relationship. The memory caused a sharp pang in her chest, but she pushed it down, focusing on the screen. “I’ve got the mail, Owen. Let me check the access for those files.”

Suddenly, the silence of the suite was shattered. The heavy door to Roman’s cabin was thrown open with such force that it slammed against the interior wall. Macy and Owen both jumped, turning toward the sound in shock.

Inside the cabin, moments before, the atmosphere had been poisonous.

Roman sat behind his desk, his eyes like flint as he stared at Christy. She was standing by the window, her arms crossed, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and desperation.

“Roman, please,” Christy said. “What happened in college… it was a huge mistake. I was young, I was confused. I am so sorry.”

“The mistake wasn’t yours, Christy,” Roman said, his voice dangerously calm. “The mistake was mine. I loved you dearly. I trusted you with everything I was. I thought you loved me for who I was, not for what I had.”

He stood up, walking slowly toward her. “But I’m glad it happened. I’m glad I found out the truth before you realized that I was the heir to Blackwood Industries. You thought I was a nobody with a scholarship. You thought the McPhee Industries heir was the real prize, didn’t you? You slept with a man I called my friend because you thought he was the future, and you backstabbed me without a second thought.”

“Roman, I—”

“And now?” Roman cut her off, his voice rising in cold derision. “Now that McPhee Industries has collapsed and I am the CEO of the largest firm in the city, you come crawling back with a ‘surprise’? I don’t want to see your face again. Just get out.”

Christy opened her mouth to argue, her eyes flashing with spite. “You’ll regret this, Roman. I’ll prove my worth to you. One day, you’ll come to me begging, saying I’m the only life you ever wanted.”

Roman didn’t even blink. “Maybe in your dreams, Christy. Now, leave, before I have security drag you out.”

Christy let out a frustrated growl, snatched her designer handbag, and marched to the door, throwing it open with a violent shove.

Macy and Owen watched as Christy stormed out of the cabin. She paused for a second, noticing them staring. She instantly adjusted her expression, donning a fake, practiced smile and a haughty attitude as she straightened her hair and walked past them toward the elevators without a word.

Macy watched her go, her heart feeling like lead. She turned back to her computer, her eyes dimming.

“Everything okay?” Owen asked softly, sensing the heavy tension in the air.

“Fine,” Macy lied, her voice tight. “Let’s get back to those files. You mentioned you needed support because your team access won’t be ready for a week?”

Owen nodded, choosing not to press her. “Exactly. This is my first big task and I don’t want to mess it up. I’d really appreciate your help until the IT department clears my permissions.”

Macy managed a small, tired smile. “Sure, Owen. I’ll help you. I’ve just mailed you the first set of files you requested. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks, Macy. I owe you one,” Owen said, offering her a final, supportive look before heading toward his own department.

Macy sank back into her chair, feeling utterly drained. A moment later, the door to the cabin opened again. Roman stepped out. He looked different—his face was pale, his eyes tensed, and he was already gripping his phone as if he were mid-conversation. He looked like a man who was suddenly drowning in a sea of problems.

He walked straight to Macy’s desk. He didn’t look at her with the warmth he had used on Friday. He looked hurried, stressed, and distant.

“Macy, I have an urgent situation,” Roman said, his voice clipped. “I have to travel immediately. I’ll be gone until next week. Take care of the office while I’m away.”

Before Macy could even ask where he was going, or who he was going with, he turned on his heel and strode toward the private exit.

Macy watched his retreating back until the doors closed behind him. Take care of the office, she repeated mentally. A bitter thought crossed her mind, fueled by the image of Christy sitting in his chair. Maybe he’s not going on a business trip at all. Maybe he’s going on a vacation to fix things with his ‘fiancée.’

She sat in the silence of the empty suite, the keys to her new apartment heavy in her pocket. The positive path she thought she was on had suddenly hit a wall, and for the first time since she started this job, Macy Rivers had absolutely nothing to say.

Chapter 19

After the storm Christy had brought into the office, Macy made a silent vow: it was time to rebuild the walls around her heart. She decided to keep everything strictly professional. If Roman wanted to be the CEO of Blackwood Industries and keep a blonde fiancée in his private office, that was his business. She was just the PA.

The universe seemed to agree with her decision. Roman had left the city almost immediately after that tense morning, and his contact with her had dwindled to cold, brief emails regarding file locations and audit follow-ups. He didn’t call. He didn’t tease. He didn’t check in on her mother.

Macy wasn’t the same. The spark that usually made her the talkative person had dimmed. By Thursday afternoon, as she sat in the cafeteria with Sophie and Claire, she was picking at her salad in a heavy, brooding silence that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Macy, what is going on with you?” Claire asked, setting her fork down. “You look incredibly dull. I haven’t heard you make a joke in three days.”

“Do you miss Roman that much?” Sophie asked with a teasing wink. “Is the office too quiet without your big, brooding boss around?”

Macy didn’t blush. She didn’t bite back with a witty retort. She simply gave Sophie a flat, hollow stare. Claire’s smile faded instantly. She realized this wasn’t their usual playful banter; something was genuinely wrong.

“You usually turn bright red when we talk about him,” Claire noted softly. “Now you’re not reacting at all.”

“I thought it was just the workload,” Sophie added, her voice turning serious. “But I feel like you’re hiding something from us.”

Macy opened her mouth to speak, but a warm, friendly voice interrupted from behind them. “Hello, girls!”

It was Owen Brooks. He looked as professional as ever, but he had a bright, appreciative smile on his face. “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch, I just wanted to say a proper thank you for helping me out this week. Claire, Macy—I finally got my system access this morning, so I won’t be bothering you for documents anymore.”

Macy managed a small, forced smile. “We were glad to help, Owen.”

“As a token of my thanks,” Owen continued, “I’d like to invite you all to a party this Friday.” He gestured toward Sophie. “You too, Sophie. I know you three are a package deal.”

“But I didn’t even do anything,” Sophie laughed.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re part of the team,” Owen insisted.

“Where is the party?” Claire asked, her curiosity piqued.

“There’s a pub called Hype in the Heaven’s Hotel,” Owen explained.

Sophie gasped. “That’s a five-star hotel! Owen, you don’t have to do that. A lunch in the cafeteria would have been fine.”

Owen chuckled. “No problem at all. My husband, Ezra, works there as a Head Chef. I told him about how much you guys helped me, and he managed to get me a set of free VIP passes. So, don’t worry about the cost. Just be there by 7:00 PM.”

“A five-star hotel pub? We are in!” Claire said enthusiastically.

As Owen walked away, Sophie’s jaw dropped. “OMG, that man is already married? There goes the love of my life.”

“Even if he wasn’t married, Sophie, he’d be way out of your league,” Claire teased.

Macy remained silent through the entire exchange. Before the girls could press her further, their phones chimed simultaneously. Claire had a project meeting, and Sophie had a call from the Finance director. They hurried off, leaving Macy to walk back to the executive suite alone, feeling more “dull” than ever.

Friday evening arrived, but the mood in the new apartment was tense. Claire had arrived early, looking stunning in a cocktail dress, only to find Sophie pacing in the living room.

“Claire, thank God you’re here. We have a problem,” Sophie whispered, pointing toward Macy’s bedroom door.

They walked inside to find Macy sitting on her bed, still in her loungewear, staring blankly at the wall.

“Macy, I thought you had a wardrobe crisis,” Claire said, crossing her arms. “But this looks like a ‘mood’ crisis. What is it? Talk to us.”

“I’m not coming,” Macy said, her voice small. “I just don’t feel like going anywhere.”

“Sweetheart, you are hiding something,” Sophie said, sitting beside her. “What happened?”

The dam finally broke. Macy couldn’t hold it in any longer. The tears began to spill over as she choked out the story of Christy, the blonde fiancée, the locked door, and the closed curtains.

Claire looked stunned. “Engaged? I’ve worked at Blackwood for years, and I’ve never heard a word about a fiancée. I don’t trust that Christy lady as far as I can throw her.”

“Then why did Roman lock the door?” Macy sobbed. “Why did he ask me to wait outside like I was just a stranger?”

“Macy,” Sophie said gently, “you two aren’t officially in a relationship. You can’t expect him to be completely open with you yet. Especially if it’s family business.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Claire offered. “I can find out the truth.”

“No!” Macy said, wiping her eyes. “If he actually has feelings for me, he’ll come to me and explain. I’m not going to go looking for answers he hasn’t offered.”

Sophie stood up and pulled Macy to her feet. “Look, it’s Friday night. Forget about Roman. Forget about Christy. When was the last time the three of us really partied? Graduation day? I want us to recreate that energy tonight.”

“She’s right,” Claire added. “We have VIP passes to a five-star pub. We are young, we are successful, and we are not letting a man ruin our weekend. Now, get ready!”

A soft knock at the door interrupted them. Beatrice, Macy’s mother, stood there with a gentle smile. “Why are you so sad, my butterfly? Aren’t you going to the party?”

“She was worried about leaving you alone, Beatrice,” Claire lied smoothly.

Beatrice walked over and tucked a strand of hair behind Macy’s ear. “I am perfectly fine, Macy. This is the age you need to be happy. I don’t want you losing your joy because of me. I’ll give you ten minutes—get ready and leave this house immediately. That’s an order from your mother.”

Macy looked at the three women in her life and finally felt a genuine smile break through. “Okay, Mom. Ten minutes.”

The night at Hype was exactly what Macy needed. The music was loud, the lights were dim, and the cocktails were perfect. They danced until their feet ached, letting the stress of the office wash away. Owen was the perfect host; he introduced them to his husband, Ezra, and made sure the girls were safe and enjoying themselves all night.

As Owen walked them to their car at the end of the night, Macy felt a sense of peace. “I really like Owen,” she told the girls. “He’s so professional and kind.”

“And did you see the way he and Ezra look at each other?” Sophie sighed happily. “That’s the kind of love I want.”

“Maybe we can even be a four-member squad at the office now,” Claire suggested.

As they drove home, Macy looked out at the city lights. She still didn’t have the answers about Roman, but for the first time in a week, she didn’t feel like a “nobody.” She felt like Macy Rivers—and that was more than enough.

Chapter 20

The heavy, suffocating cloud that had followed Macy since Christy’s arrival finally began to break after the night at Hype. The loud music, the laughter with her friends, and Owen’s genuine kindness had acted as a much-needed reset button. For the first time in days, Macy woke up on Saturday morning without the immediate, crushing weight of Roman Blackwood’s “fiancée” on her chest.

“I’m going shopping,” Macy announced as she sat in the kitchen of their new apartment, sipping tea with Sophie and Claire. “I need new energy. New clothes. A new outlook.”

Sophie and Claire exchanged a supportive glance. “Go for it, girl,” Claire said. “Sophie and I have some personal errands to run this morning, but why don’t we meet you at the mall for lunch? We can celebrate the new apartment properly.”

Macy agreed and headed out. The mall was bustling with weekend crowds, but Macy enjoyed the anonymity of it. She wandered through the high-end boutiques, doing more window shopping than actual buying, though she did treat herself to a few elegant pieces—clothes that felt more like “Macy Rivers” and less like “Roman’s assistant.”

As she was admiring a display of summer dresses, her phone buzzed. It was Claire.

“Hey, Macy! I just ran into Sophie on the way, and we’re headed toward the mall now,” Claire said over the sound of city traffic. “But listen, there’s a massive accident on the main bridge and the gridlock is insane. I think we’re going to be at least an hour late. Can you wait for us?”

“No problem at all,” Macy replied, adjusting her shopping bags. “I’ll just keep browsing. Take your time and drive safe. Bye!”

She tucked her phone away and realized she needed a quick break. She followed the signs to the nearest restroom, which was located in a quiet, somewhat isolated corner of the mall’s third floor. The hallway was long and lined with marble, the sounds of the bustling food court fading into a dull hum.

When she pushed open the heavy door to the ladies’ lounge, the silence was absolute—until she saw a flash of fabric on the floor.

Macy gasped, her shopping bags slipping from her fingers. Near the vanity mirrors, an older woman was lying motionless on the polished tile. She was dressed in an impeccably tailored cream-colored suit, with a silk scarf draped around her neck and a designer handbag spilled out beside her. Everything about her screamed wealth and refinement.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, can you hear me?” Macy rushed to her side, kneeling on the cold floor.

She gently tapped the woman’s pale cheek, her heart hammering against her ribs. The woman didn’t open her eyes, but Macy let out a sob of relief when she felt a steady pulse at the woman’s wrist. She was breathing, but she was out cold.

Macy didn’t waste a second. She grabbed her phone and dialed the mall security, then followed up by calling for an ambulance. While she waited, she remained by the woman’s side, shielding her from the draft and talking to her in a soft, steady voice, hoping she could hear her.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. Help is coming,” Macy whispered, smoothing the woman’s silver-streaked hair.

The ambulance arrived with surprising speed. Macy, unwilling to leave the unconscious woman alone in such a vulnerable state, accompanied her to the hospital. At the emergency room, the doctors were frantic for information, but Macy could only give them the basics.

“I found her in the mall,” Macy explained to the head nurse. “I don’t know her name or her medical history. I just couldn’t leave her there.”

After an hour of pacing the waiting room, a doctor finally emerged, wiping his brow. He looked at Macy with a tired smile. “She’s awake and stable. It was a simple case of low blood pressure—syncope. She fainted and, unfortunately, took a bit of a tumble. She has a hairline fracture in her left wrist, but other than that, she’s perfectly fine. You can go in and see her for a moment if you like.”

Macy felt a wave of relief wash over her. She picked up the woman’s designer bag and walked into the private recovery room. The woman was sitting up in bed, her wrist already neatly wrapped in a temporary cast. When she saw Macy, her tired eyes sparkled with a sudden, warm light.

“You’re the girl from the mall,” the woman said, her voice soft but melodic.

“I am,” Macy said, walking to the bedside. She handed the bag over. “I brought your things. I’m so sorry, I had to open the bag to look for an ID so I could tell the doctors your name, but I couldn’t find anything. There was just your phone and some cash.”

The woman smiled, a look of genuine kindness on her face. “I leave my ID in my car’s glove box more often than I should. My name is Josephine.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Josephine. I’m Macy. Macy Rivers.”

“Thank you, Macy Rivers,” Josephine said, her gaze lingering on Macy with a strange intensity. “The doctors told me you were the one who found me. You saved me from a very long, cold afternoon on that floor.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Macy said. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Much better. Just a bit of a headache and a throb in this wrist,” Josephine sighed. “I’ve already messaged my driver to come and pick me up. He should be downstairs in ten minutes.”

Josephine paused, looking at Macy’s shopping bags in the corner. “Macy… if you don’t mind, and if you have the time, would you accompany me home? I’m still feeling a bit lightheaded, and I would love for you to meet my son. I’d like to tell him about the guardian angel who looked after his mother today.”

Macy hesitated. Claire and Sophie were still stuck in traffic, and she felt a strange pull toward this woman. Josephine felt familiar in a way Macy couldn’t quite place—something in the way she carried herself, even in a hospital gown.

“I… suppose I can,” Macy agreed. “I’d like to make sure you get inside safely.”

The drive took them away from the city center and into one of the most exclusive gated communities Macy had ever seen. When the car finally pulled through a set of massive iron gates, Macy’s jaw dropped.

The mansion was breathtaking—a sprawl of stone, glass, and ivy that looked like something out of a historical film. It was the kind of home that spoke of generations of wealth and power.

“You live here?” Macy asked, her voice hushed as the driver helped them out.

“It’s a bit much for just me and my son,” Josephine joked, leaning on Macy’s arm as they walked toward the grand entrance. “But it has its charms.”

The interior was even more spectacular. The foyer was lined with marble, and the walls were adorned with fine art and large, framed photographs. Macy walked slowly, her eyes wide as she took in the luxury. As they passed a long gallery wall, Macy’s feet suddenly felt like they were made of lead.

She stopped in front of a large, candid photograph of a man standing on a sailboat, the sun catching the sharp, handsome angles of his face. He wasn’t wearing a suit. He looked relaxed, happy… and unmistakably familiar.

Macy’s heart stopped. She pointed at the photo, her voice barely a squeak. “Josephine… who is this?”

Josephine looked at the photo and beamed with motherly pride. “Oh! That’s my son. He’s the light of my life, though he works far too hard these days.

Macy didn’t need her to finish the sentence.

“I… I just remembered!” Macy gasped, her heart racing so fast she felt dizzy. “I have work! Very urgent work! I forgot to tell you, I have to leave right now!”

She turned around, her shopping bags swinging wildly as she tried to make a break for the front door.

“Macy, wait!” Josephine called out, sounding confused. “At least stay to meet him! He’ll be so happy to thank you properly. ”

“I really can’t! Next time! I’ll call you! Bye!” Macy was practically running now, her heels clicking frantically on the marble.

She reached the massive front doors and was about to throw them open when a familiar, deep baritone voice echoed from the top of the grand staircase.

“Mom? I heard the car. What happened to your hand?”

Macy froze. Her hand was on the door handle, but her feet wouldn’t move. She closed her eyes tight, a silent groan escaping her lips.

I am busted.

She turned around slowly, her face pale as a sheet, to see Roman Blackwood standing on the stairs, his eyes wide with a shock that mirrored her own.