Chapter 3

I was running late for work when I noticed it—a small, elegant bottle tucked beneath the passenger seat of Damian's car. My fingers closed around the cool glass as I pulled it out, and the distinctive scent hit me immediately—expensive, feminine, with notes of jasmine and something distinctly sensual.

Sage's perfume.

My stomach twisted as I held the bottle up to the light. The label confirmed what I already knew: "Jardin de Minuit" by some exclusive French brand I'd never be able to afford. Not that I would want to.

"Did you find something?" Damian's voice startled me from the driver's side window. He'd walked around the car while I was still sitting in the passenger seat, the perfume bottle clutched in my hand.

"This doesn't belong to me," I said quietly, holding up the bottle so he could see it clearly. "And it's not something I'd buy."

Damian's expression flickered—annoyance, guilt, something I couldn't quite read. "It's probably Sage's. She must have left it yesterday when I gave her a ride."

"Yesterday?" I echoed. "Or this morning?"

He ignored my question, reaching for the perfume bottle. "I'll give it back to her at work."

"Wait." I pulled the bottle back. "Don't you think it's strange that she left something so expensive in your car?"

Before Damian could answer, a light tap sounded on the car window. Sage stood there, her blonde hair catching the morning sunlight, her smile perfectly innocent.

"Oh! There you are!" She pointed at the perfume bottle in my hand. "I've been looking everywhere for that! It's my favorite."

I rolled down the window, the perfume bottle still in my grip. "Funny how it ended up under the seat."

Sage's eyes widened with practiced surprise. "I must have dropped it yesterday when Damian was helping me with those files. Thank you so much for finding it!" She reached for the bottle, her fingers brushing mine deliberately.

Then she turned to Damian, placing her hand on his arm with casual intimacy. "You're always taking such good care of me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The touch lingered too long. Her eyes met his with a warmth that made my skin crawl.

"No problem," Damian replied, his voice softer than it had been with me moments before. "Always happy to help."

I watched as Sage slipped the perfume bottle into her purse, her movements graceful and deliberate. This wasn't an accident. This was calculated—a message meant for me.

---

The company holiday party transformed the normally sterile conference hall into something almost magical. Crystal ornaments hung from the ceiling, casting rainbow reflections across the room. A string quartet played softly in the corner while colleagues mingled in their finest attire.

I smoothed down my navy blue dress—elegant but conservative—and scanned the room for Damian. We'd arrived separately; he'd claimed he needed to help with setup.

Then I saw her.

Sage stood near the refreshment table in a dress the color of blood. The fabric clung to her curves, dipping low in the back to reveal smooth skin that seemed to glow under the lights. Her blonde hair was swept up, exposing delicate earrings that caught the light when she moved her head.

And Damian was moving toward her like a man in a trance.

I watched from our table as he took her hand, leading her onto the dance floor. The quartet began a waltz, and they moved together as if they'd practiced for years. Her red dress swirled around them, a crimson cloud that seemed to swallow him whole.

One dance became two. Then three.

I sat alone at our assigned table, nursing a glass of champagne I couldn't taste. Colleagues passed by, some offering sympathetic smiles, others avoiding my gaze entirely.

"Celeste! You look lovely tonight." Eleanor, Damian's mother, appeared beside me. Her eyes followed my gaze to the dance floor, where Sage was now whispering something in my husband's ear.

"He certainly seems taken with that girl," she observed quietly.

Before I could respond, Sage's voice rang out across the room. She'd stepped away from Damian, addressing the crowd with a champagne flute raised high.

"I want to thank everyone for making me feel so welcome at Stellar Corp," she announced, her eyes finding Damian in the crowd. "Especially Damian Reynolds. You've been the most amazing mentor and friend anyone could ask for."

The room quieted as she continued, her voice carrying clearly through the sudden silence.

"I don't know what I did to deserve such kindness, but I'm grateful every day for your guidance."

She raised her glass higher, her eyes locked with Damian's across the room. "To Damian—thank you for everything."

The crowd echoed her toast, glasses lifting throughout the room. And there was Damian, smiling back at her like she'd just offered him the world.

I set down my champagne glass, the stem trembling slightly against the tablecloth. The jar of origami stars was waiting at home, still needing ninety more pieces to complete its deadly countdown.

But as I watched Sage glide back into Damian's arms for another dance, I wondered if my heart would break before we reached one hundred.