Days passed.
No calls. No texts.
Nothing from Callen. And Lena.
The world outside moved on, spinning quietly, as if nothing had happened.
Eva sat on the edge of Jack’s couch, her hands folded over the resignation letter in her lap. Crisp. Clean. Signed.
It had been her exit strategy. Her escape.
Now it felt like a joke.
Jack’s voice was low, steady, careful. “You’re sure you want to go back there?”
Eva didn’t look at him. Her eyes were fixed on the paper in her hands, the neat signature she’d once thought was the solution.
“I’m not going back to leave,” she said softly. “I’m going back to finish this.”
Jack sat back, arms crossed, watching her like he was seeing something new in her.
Her fingers curled around the resignation letter, crumpling it slightly at the edges.
“I’m not resigning,” she said. Her voice was cold now. Final.
The next morning, she walked into Blackwell & Co.
The glass walls, the polished floors, the cold air that smelled of money and power, it all felt the same. But she wasn’t.
Callen sat at his desk, scrolling through emails, his phone buzzing with notifications.
He looked up when Eva entered, a flicker of something in his eyes.
“Eva. What is it?”
She stepped forward, calm, composed, her face an unreadable mask.
Without a word, she placed a crisp envelope on his desk.
Callen frowned, picking it up.
“What’s this?”
He pulled out the paper, scanning the header. His eyes widened slightly, his breath catching.
“Resignation?” he muttered, confusion creasing his brow.
Eva’s gaze never wavered.
“You signed it a few days ago. It was buried under the acquisition documents.”
Callen’s eyes darted to her, sharp now, as if seeing her for the first time.
“You were leaving?”
“I was,” Eva said softly, her voice even. “But I’ve changed my mind.”
The tension in his shoulders eased just slightly.
“You’re not leaving,” he repeated, almost like he was reassuring himself.
Eva’s lips curled into the faintest smile, small, tight yet cold.
“No. I’m not leaving.”
Relief flickered across Callen’s face, but it was thin, fleeting, because something in her tone made his chest tighten, a prickle of unease crawling up his spine.
Eva turned without another word and left his office, her heels clicking against the floor like a ticking clock.
Callen stared after her, a chill creeping in.
He had no idea what had just happened.
But it felt like the ground beneath him had shifted, and he couldn’t quite find his footing.
That night, Eva met Jack at a quiet bar tucked away from the city noise.
Jack leaned in, voice low.
“You just made your move, didn’t you?”
Eva sipped her drink, the liquid burning its way down.
“I did.”
Jack’s lips twitched, slow and dangerous.
“What’s next?”
Her eyes locked onto his, cold fire burning in her chest.
“Now we watch. We wait. And then we take it all.”
Jack leaned back, his grin sharp.
“You’re something else, Eva.”
She didn’t smile.
“I’m not his anymore.”
Two days later, Eva and Jack sat in his car, parked down the street from the Blackwell estate.
Inside, the lights glowed warm and soft, a picture of a life Eva no longer recognized.
Callen and Lena stood at the window, their silhouettes framed in the glass. Callen’s hand rested on Lena’s waist.
Lena laughed, her head tilting back, her body angling toward Callen like they belonged together.
Eva’s hands curled into fists in her lap, her breath slow and steady.
Jack watched her from the driver’s seat, quiet.
Eva’s eyes narrowed, her voice barely a whisper.
“You’ll know what it feels like to lose, Callen and Lena.”
Eva’s phone buzzed in her hand. A message from William Harrow.
Have you decided what to do about the divorce papers?
Eva stared at it, her breath catching in her throat.
She stared at Callen. The Callen, who had never once checked if she was alive after every admit at the hospital. Callen, who had signed her resignation without even reading it. Callen, who was now laughing with her sister like none of it had ever mattered.
Her jaw tightened, her decision solidifying like ice in her veins.
She tapped the call button.
William answered on the second ring.
“Eva?”
Her voice was cool, sharp.
“Don’t file the divorce.”
There was a beat of stunned silence.
“Eva, are you sure?”
Her eyes never left Callen and Lena, still smiling, still posing.
“I’m sure,” she said, her voice low and precise. “I have better plans.”
She ended the call without waiting for a response.
Jack’s gaze cut to her, sharp and curious.
“Better plans?” he echoed, his voice rough, low.
Eva turned to him, her pulse steady, her lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile.
Her voice dropped, soft as silk, laced with steel.
“Jack… Will you help me cheat on my cheating husband?”
