Chapter 3 - The Trap ClosesViral Facebook Headline:🚨 HE SHOWED UP AT HER WORKPLACE AFTER CHEATING, THINKING SHE’D FALL FOR HIS LIES AGAIN—BUT HER BOSS WAS WATCHING! 👀
The glass doors of the Brightwell Civic Trust swung open with a soft chime at 3:15 PM.
Lena was standing at the front reception desk reviewing architectural blueprints with Cass when she heard the crisp click of expensive leather shoes on the marble floor. She looked up, and the breath froze in her lungs.
Derek Mallory stood in the lobby.
He had ditched the casual wear. He was dressed in his signature tailored navy business suit, white dress shirt, and a dark silk tie, his light brown hair neatly styled, his short-trimmed beard immaculate. He looked every bit the successful, polished executive he projected to the world—a walking, talking illusion.
Cass stiffened beside Lena, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “Oh, hell no. Do you want me to call building security, or can I throw him through the glass myself?”
“No,” Lena whispered, her spine straightening as a cold, sharp wave of clarity washed over her. The shock was gone. Replaced by something much stronger: absolute, unadulterated contempt. “Let’s see what circus act he’s brought today.”
Derek walked toward them with a slow, measured stride, flashing that trademark disarming smile that used to make Lena’s stomach flutter.
“Lena,” he said, his voice smooth as aged whiskey. He ignored Cass entirely, focusing his undivided, intense attention on Lena. “I’m glad I caught you. We need to talk.”
“There is nothing for us to talk about, Derek,” Lena said, her voice remarkably steady. She folded her arms over her clipboard. “Unless you forgot your apartment key again, in which case it’s currently sitting in the lost-and-found bin at the parking garage.”
A flicker of irritation crossed Derek’s polished features, quickly masked by an expression of deep, soul-searching remorse.
“I deserved that,” he said softly, stepping closer. The subtle scent of his sandalwood cologne washed over her—a scent that used to mean safety, but now smelled entirely like poison. “I was an idiot, Lena. A blind, arrogant idiot. These past few days without you... the house feels empty. I haven’t slept. I haven’t eaten.”
Cass let out a loud, theatrical gag. “Should I fetch a violin, or are we going straight to the part where you ask her to finance your next business venture?”
Derek’s gaze flicked to Cass, his jaw tightening. “This is a private conversation between Lena and me. If you don't mind—”
“I do mind,” Cass snapped, stepping directly into Derek’s personal space. “Because last time I checked, your idea of a private conversation involved another woman naked in your bed while Lena was carrying an anniversary cake. So excuse me if I don’t trust your definition of privacy.”
A few heads turned from nearby cubicles. A flush of color crept up Derek’s neck, denting his immaculate armor. He forced a strained smile, keeping his eyes locked on Lena.
“Lena, please. Give me five minutes. Downstairs in the courtyard. Just hear me out.”
Lena looked at him—truly looked at him. She saw the desperation lurking beneath his polished veneer, the way his fingers twitched slightly against his thigh, the subtle frantic energy he was trying so hard to mask. Derek wasn't here for her heart. Men like Derek didn't love anyone but themselves. He was here because he needed something.
“Five minutes, Derek,” Lena said quietly. “Not in the courtyard. Right here by the vending machines where everyone can see us. Clock starts now.”
Derek’s eyes flashed with cold realization. He knew he couldn't win her back with an audience, but he also knew he was out of options.
He leaned in close, lowering his voice so only she could hear.
“It’s about Julian Vance’s zoning project,” Derek murmured, his mask slipping entirely to reveal the ruthless strategist underneath. “If the Civic Trust doesn’t approve the downtown commercial expansion by next Friday, my firm takes a massive hit. I know you sit on the final review board. Help me, Lena, and we can... we can talk about the future. Real future. Marriage. Everything you wanted.”
Lena stared at him, absolute horror and disgust washing over her in equal measure.
He was trying to bribe her with a counterfeit proposal just to save his own skin, using the exact future he had mocked her for wanting only days ago as currency.
“You are disgusting,” Lena whispered, the words trembling with controlled fury.
Before Derek could reply, a heavy hand gripped his shoulder from behind, spinning him around with enough force to stagger his polished stride.
“She said no,” a deep, cold voice growled.
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Noah Camden stood towering behind Derek, his hazel eyes burning with a dark, suppressed rage. He had apparently walked in through the side entrance while they were talking.
And the storm had finally broken.
