Chapter 18

Before Fiona could open her mouth to scream or beg again, the office doors clicked open. Two towering security guards in crisp black suits stepped in, flanked by Darcy, who crossed her arms and looked down at Fiona with a look of supreme, icy amusement.
“Time’s up, Fiona,” Darcy said crisply, nodding to the guards.
As the guards gently but firmly lifted Fiona by her arms and guided her toward the elevators, she thrashed weakly, weeping hysterically into the empty air, her voice fading down the long hallway until the heavy mahogany doors clicked shut once more.
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Darcy walked over to the floor-to-ceiling glass window, watching the tiny figure of Fiona get escorted out onto the bustling Chicago street below like a speck of garbage swept into the wind.
“Well,” Darcy sighed, adjusting her blazer with a satisfied smirk. “That’s the last time that parasite will ever darken your doorstep.”