Chapter 3

I knew the logistics department like the back of my hand.

The department manager was my old buddy Matthew Brown, the guy who used to share pizza with me back in the day.

When I walked in, his eyes went red. He slammed his fist against the file cabinet, making the metal buzz.

Matthew said, "Charles... He... This is inhuman!

"Emily, we're all itching to stand up for you. Just tell us what to do. We're behind you 100%."

I set my stuff down and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Hang in there. Don't lose your cool.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to take this lying down."

Matthew set me up with the easiest file-sorting job.

I sat in the storage room, flipping through ten years' worth of company contracts.

From the very first 150,000-dollar contract to last year's 300-million-dollar financing, they documented every step of the company's growth.

Every single page had both my signature and Charles's.

My fingers traced over the name "Charles Rivers."

Back then, he always stretched the final curve in his signature. He said it would help me reach further, as if his name could somehow carry me forward.

Now, it felt like a dull blade, slicing right through the past ten years of my life.

*****

At noon, Sophie showed up in the logistics department.

She was surrounded by her entourage, walking in like a queen touring her territory.

She walked up to my desk and tapped on it. "Emily, Charles said he's going to meet an important client this afternoon, and he needs the design plans for the smart community project from five years ago.

"Can you go find them for me?"

The blueprints were kept on top of a metal cabinet in the farthest storage room on the third floor.

They were stored in two big boxes, each weighing at least 65 pounds.

I used to move them myself, but now I was a logistics worker, being ordered around to do it for others.

I stood up. "Sure."

Matthew tried to stop me. "Emily, those boxes are really heavy. Let me take care of them."

I smiled. "No need. Sophie needs this, so I should do it myself. It'd be more trouble if you did it for me."

I climbed up to the third floor because there was no elevator in the warehouse.

I hauled the boxes to the top of the stairs and glanced down.

Sophie was standing on the first floor, looking up at me with a smirk.

I crouched down and grabbed the first box.

Damn, this was heavy. My old back injury started acting up.

I slowly made my way down the stairs, one step at a time.

When I got to the second-floor landing, my foot slipped.

The box slipped from my hands, and the blueprints scattered all over the floor with a loud rustle.

I fell hard onto the stairs. My knee split open instantly, blood oozing out.

Sophie called out from downstairs. "Oh no! The blueprints are ruined now! The client is coming this afternoon, you know."

I forced myself to stand and limped over to gather the scattered papers, wincing as pain shot through my knee.

Sophie walked over and crouched down beside me.

"Does it hurt, Emily?

"This is just the beginning," she sneered. "I'm going to take everything from you, your job, your man, your whole future. Bit by bit."

She leaned in even closer, her breath hot against my ear.

"Do you know what Charles says about you in bed?" she continued. "He says being with you is like checking off an assignment, something he has to get through. But with me, that's when he really lets go."

I looked up at her, taking in that young, pretty face. "Sophie, ever wondered why this company's called Evermore?"

She paused, caught off guard.

"Because nothing in this world—no love, no promise—is meant to stay. Everything fades in time," I said. "Just like your smug attitude. It won't stick around for long."

Her face went pale for a second, but then she forced a smug smile. "So what? Charles loves me now. You're the other woman."

I picked up the last blueprint and brushed the dust off it. "Love? Back then, he promised me forever, too.

"A man's forever doesn't mean much."

She shot me a vicious glare, then turned and walked away.

I hugged the box to my chest and kept going down the stairs. Blood trickled down my calf and into my shoe, sticky against my skin.

But the pain in my knee was nothing compared to the ache in my heart.