The office felt different the next morning. Colder. Sharper.
Ava sat at her desk, typing numbers into a report she could barely focus on. Every keystroke sounded too loud, every glance from passing coworkers felt like suspicion. The air hummed with unspoken tension, as if the walls themselves had watched her on the leather couch in Dominic’s office last night.
She had left his suite close to midnight, her lipstick smeared, her body tender in ways she couldn’t disguise. She’d showered until her skin burned, but no amount of hot water could scrub his fingerprints from her. Now, in the bright light of day, the risk of discovery loomed like a shadow at her back.
Across the room, Clara Jensen from HR walked by. She was tall, meticulous, the kind of woman who spotted details others overlooked
