My stomach churned as I pushed through the revolving glass doors.
The marble lobby looked exactly the same. I built this agency from the ground up, even if Ryan’s name sat on the lease.
A burly security guard stepped into my path, blocking the turnstiles.
"Ma'am, unauthorized personnel aren't allowed past the desk," he said.
He scanned my faded jeans and gray t-shirt. Disgust curled his lip. He looked at me like I was trash blown in from the street.
"I need to see Ryan Carter," I said, keeping my chin high. "He's my husband."
The guard barked a harsh laugh.
"Lady, do you know how many crazy women on the internet claim they're married to Ryan Carter?" He shoved my shoulder backward. "Leave before I physically remove you."
"I'm not leaving until I see him."
"Have it your way." He reached for the radio on his belt.
The elevator pinged. The steel doors slid open.
Vanessa Moore stepped out. She wore a crimson silk dress, her lips painted to match. She looked like the queen of the castle.
She paused, her eyes widening in mock surprise.
"Oh my. Charlotte? Is that really you?" Vanessa tapped her chin. "I almost didn't recognize you. You really couldn't wait to see us, could you?"
"Take me to him," I demanded.
Vanessa waved a manicured hand at the guard. "It's fine. She's with me. I'll take her up."
"Are you sure, Miss Moore?" the guard asked, his tone instantly respectful.
"Positive." Vanessa flashed a sickly sweet smile. "Follow me, Charlotte."
We rode the elevator in silence. She led me down the hall to the corner office. My old office.
The heavy wooden door swung open.
Ryan sat on the leather sofa. His white dress shirt hung open, exposing his bare chest. He didn't flinch when I walked in. He didn't look ashamed.
He just frowned.
"How did you find this place?" Ryan asked.
I stared at the closed door behind his desk. The rest area. The room from the video. It was the exact spot where I used to sleep when I worked seventy-hour weeks to secure his first leading role.
"Vanessa sent me a live stream," I said, my voice shaking. "I watched you fuck her."
Vanessa strolled over and perched on the arm of the sofa. She trailed her fingers through Ryan's hair.
"How could you betray me like this?" I asked, stepping closer. "I gave birth to Noah. I went to a concrete cell so you wouldn't have to. I gave up my entire life for you."
Instead of apologizing, Ryan chuckled. He stood up, towering over me.
"Three years ago, you were the gold-medal agent who could take me to the top," he sneered. "But what are you today?"
I clenched my fists.
"You're an ex-con," he stated flatly. "A nobody."
Vanessa pouted, leaning her head against his shoulder.
"I was just recording our daily life, Ryan," she said, feigning innocence. "I didn't think she would actually snoop through my private phone. That's not very nice, sister."
"You planted that phone in my bedroom!" I yelled.
Ryan rolled his eyes. "Lower your voice. You're giving me a headache."
A laugh ripped from my throat. It sounded entirely wrong in the quiet room—harsh and completely devoid of humor.
"Listen," Ryan said, his tone turning bored. "If you're that obsessed with watching us, maybe you can make yourself useful."
He stepped into my space, glaring down at me.
"Next time Vanessa and I do it, you can join us. You can stand in the corner and hold the camera."
My stomach dropped. The man standing before me was a complete stranger.
"You're a monster," I whispered.
"Security," Ryan called out, pressing a button on his intercom. "We have a trespasser in my office. Throw her out."
The door burst open seconds later. The burly guard from the lobby marched in.
He grabbed my bicep. His grip bruised my skin instantly.
"Get your hands off me!" I shouted.
"Quiet," the guard grunted.
He dragged me out of the office. Ryan turned his back, pulling Vanessa in for a kiss.
The guard hauled me down the hallway, into the elevator, and across the marble lobby. People stared, whispering as I struggled against his hold.
"I told you to leave," the guard growled.
He shoved me through the front glass doors. I stumbled down the concrete steps and hit the pavement hard.
The rough ground tore through my jeans. Skin scraped off my knees.
I sat on the sidewalk, staring at the blood welling up on my legs.
I didn't shed a single tear. Crying over Ryan Carter was a waste of time.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the white phone Mr. Harris had given me.
My hands shook as I dialed a number I hadn't called in three years.
I pushed him away because Ryan was jealous. I cut him out of my life to keep the peace in my marriage. I thought I was doing the right thing.
The line rang twice.
"Hello?" a deep, gravelly voice answered.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
"Charlotte?" Damien Blackwood asked. "Is that you? How are you?"
Hearing my name in his voice broke whatever dam I had left.
A sob ripped from my throat.
"Damien," I gasped, the tears finally spilling over my cheeks.
"Stay right there," he said, the line shifting with sudden movement. "I'm coming to get you."
"You don't know where I am," I cried into the receiver.
"I always know where you are," Damien replied, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And I know exactly what I'm going to do to the man who put you on the street."
