Chapter 10 – Between Fire and Ash

Claire sat at her desk, pretending to type while her eyes kept drifting to the slim black card hidden in her drawer.

It was ridiculous how heavy it felt. Just a rectangle of plastic and ink, yet every time she thought of Martin Taylor’s voice silky, dangerous, whispering “You deserve to be the only choice” her hand itched to pick it up.

She shook her head, shutting the drawer a little too hard. Stop it, Claire. He’s poison. Brad is nothing like him.

But was he?

Her heart squeezed, remembering the way Brad had kissed her on the rooftop, tender but firm, as though she were something precious. And yet, Martin’s words coiled in her mind: Three women orbiting one man. That’s not romance, Claire. That’s chaos.

Brad Appears

“Claire.”

Her breath hitched as Brad’s voice pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. She looked up, and there he was, leaning against the edge of her desk. His tie was loosened, his jacket discarded somewhere, sleeves rolled to his forearms. Casual, but devastatingly powerful.

“Brad,” she said quickly, trying to compose herself.

“You look guilty,” he teased, narrowing those fine, piercing eyes at her. “What are you hiding?”

Her chest fluttered. If only you knew.

“Just… catching up on work,” she lied, forcing a smile.

He didn’t buy it entirely, but he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “You free for lunch? Just us.”

Her lips parted. “Here… or out?”

“Out,” he said, his gaze locking on hers. “Somewhere no one from the office can interrupt us.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. She nodded. “Yes.”

Lunch Escape

They left quietly, Brad leading her out the private back entrance and into his sleek black car. The drive was short but charged, his hand occasionally brushing hers on the console, sending jolts of warmth through her.

He took her to a quiet Italian restaurant tucked into a side street in Georgetown, one with dim lighting and hushed conversations.

“Favorite place of mine,” Brad said as the waiter poured wine. “I don’t bring just anyone here.”

Claire smiled despite herself. “So I’m not just anyone?”

His gaze softened, but his answer was firm. “You’re not.”

The Confession

Over pasta and wine, they talked about everything but work childhood stories, embarrassing mistakes, secret dreams. Brad laughed more than she’d ever seen him laugh, and Claire felt herself slipping deeper into his world.

But then… the card. The card. It pressed against her mind like a bruise.

At one point, Brad reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers. “Claire… there’s something I need you to know. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, or who else is around me. When I’m with you… I’m not looking at anyone else.”

Her chest tightened, emotions threatening to spill over. She wanted to believe him. She really did. But Martin’s poison whispered: He’s said that to others before you.

The Slip

When Brad excused himself to take a quick call, Claire’s phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

Unknown → Claire: You looked beautiful this morning. Did Brad tell you the same, or is he still too busy with his other women? M

Her blood ran cold. Martin.

She stared at the words, the urge to delete the message battling with a darker temptation: to reply.

Her thumb hovered over the screen as Brad walked back toward the table, his warm smile directed only at her.

She quickly locked her phone, shoving it into her bag.

“Everything okay?” Brad asked, sliding back into his seat.

Claire forced a smile. “Perfect.”

But inside, the war raged louder.

Cliffhanger

That night, alone in her apartment, Claire finally pulled the black card from her drawer. She placed it on the table, next to her phone, the glow of the city outside her window casting shadows over it.

Brad’s voice echoed in her heart: You’re not just anyone.

Martin’s words hissed in her mind: You deserve to be the only choice.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the phone.