The vibration of the slow jazz bassline hummed through the soles of Emily’s heels as Daniel’s grip finally relaxed from her wrist, leaving a faint, pale ring of white against her skin.

He sped downtown, running two red lights before screeching his Audi into the underground garage of Carter Global headquarters.

He didn't take the elevator. He sprinted up the concrete stairwell, bursting through the glass doors of the 35th floor looking like a madman.

The open-plan office was dead silent.

Eighty employees sat staring at black computer screens, the blue glow reflecting off their stunned faces. In the center of the floor stood the IT director, frantically typing commands into a dead terminal.

“Where is she?” Daniel roared, marching toward his private executive suite.

He threw open the double doors of his corner office expecting chaos.

Instead, the room was immaculate. And sitting behind his massive mahogany desk wasn't his secretary.

It was Emily.

She wore a sharp, tailored charcoal pantsuit, her hair pulled back into a flawless, sharp knot. She wasn't looking at him. She was reviewing a printed hard copy of the corporate audit trail, sipping black coffee from a ceramic mug.

“You...” Daniel stammered, stopping dead in his tracks as the door clicked shut behind him. “What are you doing in my office? How did you get in here?”