Chapter 1 - The Weight of Ten Years
The sterile hum of the air conditioning unit on the 68th floor felt suffocating. Ten years of marriage. Ten years of standing shoulder to shoulder through late nights, corporate relocations, and the endless sacrifices required to build Montalvo Global into an international powerhouse. And while I had been spending the past month in freezing industrial plants across Chicago, trying to pull a failing manufacturing division out of the red, my husband had apparently found a very comfortable way to pass the time in Manhattan.
Camila lowered her arm, her eyes flashing with a predatory gleam that she didn't bother trying to hide. She clearly assumed I was just another entry-level hire or a bewildered intern who had wandered into the wrong sector of the building.
"Mr. Montalvo appreciates loyalty," Camila murmured, taking a deliberate step closer to me. "And he rewards it very well. So, if you know what's good for your career—assuming you even have one left after today—you'll turn right back around, take the service elevator down, and figure out how to do your job without drawing attention to yourself."
Before I could answer, a door further down the executive hallway clicked open.
Alexander Montalvo stepped out of his corner office, wearing his usual bespoke charcoal suit, his golden-brown hair neatly styled, and that effortless, charismatic smile that had charmed both investors and board members for years. He looked every bit the polished corporate chairman.
"Camila," Alexander called out, not yet looking up from the leather folder in his hand. "Did you finish the preliminary summaries for the regional directors' meeting? The board is expecting—"
He stopped mid-sentence as he raised his eyes.
The silence that fell over the executive suite was absolute. Alexander froze in the center of the hallway, the leather folder slipping an inch in his grip. His eyes moved from Camila to me, and the color drained rapidly from his face.
"Evelyn?" he whispered, his voice cracking with a sudden, panicked disbelief. "What... what are you doing here? I thought your return flight from Chicago wasn't until tomorrow night."
May you like
Camila blinked, her posture instantly stiffening. She looked from Alexander to me, her mind frantically trying to connect the dots. "Mr. Montalvo? You... you know her?"
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