Tristan

"Who the hell gets drunk on a Monday morning?" Stefan mused, watching with morbid curiosity, the disaster that was Shelly.

She was a mess—drunk, half-dressed, yelling at my staff like she still had any right to demand attention. Her hair was a wild spectacle, her blouse hung loose, barely hiding her, and her skirt? She might as well not be wearing one at all. The smell of cheap whiskey radiated off her, even from this distance, making bile rise to my throat.

Across the lobby, my employees stood uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze, unsure if they should intervene. Security hovered nearby, waiting for a signal, but no one moved. Not yet.

"I'll handle it," Stefan muttered, already stepping forward.

I put a firm hand on his chest, stopping him. "I'll deal with her."

I could feel his hesitation, but this wasn't his problem. Shelly wasn't his ghost to exorcise. Ultimately, he nodded, stepping back. "She's all yours."

I crossed the lobby, my footsteps hard and my jaw tight. The second she saw me, her face lit up like she had just won the lottery. "Tristaaaaan!" she slurred, staggering toward me with open arms. "There you are... I've missed you soooo much!"

"Shut up," I growled, gripping her arm with a force that made her gasp. I yanked her toward the elevator, dragging her with a grip firm enough to leave bruises.

She tripped and stumbled but I didn't slow down. I didn't have the patience for her nonsense, not today. I shoved her inside the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor. The ride up felt endless. Her slurred words and nonsensical nonsense grated on my nerves. She tried to nuzzle my arm, but I pushed her off, repulsion simmering beneath my skin. Her presence, her touch—it was a reminder of everything I wanted to forget.

When the elevator doors opened, I didn't waste a second hauling her down the hallway and into my office. Once inside, I threw her hand away from me like it was burning my skin. "What the hell are you doing here, Shelly?"

My voice was sharp, demanding an answer, but I knew her well enough to know I wouldn't get one that made sense.

She swayed on her feet, grinning like a fool. "I missed you," she slurred, weaving closer. "And...I know you missed me too."

Just as I parted my lips to snap at her, she lost her balance, stumbling forward and collapsing into me. My instincts betrayed me as I caught her. A mistake. Seizing the opportunity like the snake she was, she grabbed my face with her hands and pulled closer.

Revulsion surged through me, fast and hot. I tried to twist away, but she leaned in too fast, too eagerly. She kissed me.

Sloppily, forcefully.

Disgust, pure and raw exploded inside me. Without thinking, my hands shot up and I shoved her hard, too hard. She flew backward, her body twisting as she slammed into my desk and hit the ground with a loud thud. Papers scattered everywhere, something crashed to the floor, and for a split second, I thought she'd be hurt.

But then she started laughing. Actually laughing; a high-pitched giggle, like she'd just tripped over nothing and thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

I wiped my mouth, my heart hammering in my chest. I was going to be sick.

"You didn't have to push me so hard," she chortled, breathless. "I like it rough, though."

My fists clenched at my sides. "How many times do I have to tell you it's over, Shelly? Whatever we had—whatever transaction you think this is—it's done."

"Over?" She staggered to her feet, her laughter fading into a twisted smile. "It's not over, Tristan, you...you need me." Her arms flailed out to steady herself on nothing. "The things I do for you... no one else can, especially not your precious wife."

My glare sharpened. "Shelly," I warned. "Know your place."

Her smirk faltered, just for a second, but then she laughed again. "What? She's probably getting fat and tired by now. Bet she doesn't look anything like she used to."

The urge to put her in her place gnawed at me, a fire in my gut I fought to keep under control. Shelly wasn't mine to command anymore. She wasn't mine at all. But the revulsion she stirred, the way she clung to a version of me I'd buried—it was suffocating. I ran a hand over my face, forcing myself to breathe through the disgust. She was wasted, not even in her right mind. Nothing I said or did would change anything; by tomorrow, she'd forget all of it.

But I'd had enough.

"You're not worth my time," I deadpanned, turning away from her and heading toward the intercom on my desk.

"You can deny it all you want!" she clamored behind me. "But what we had was different. I was special to you."

I stopped, my hand hovering over the button. "Don't fool yourself. You were nothing to me other than a means to an end. You don't exist in my world, Shelly."

"You're insatiable," she countered. "You can pretend all you want that you don't need me, that I mean nothing, but we both know you miss it and soon enough you'll be crawling back when that tramp of a wife—"

I spun around, leveling her with a glare. "Watch it."

She giggled, shaking her head. "Why? You don't appreciate me calling her what she is? A dirty cheap tramp?"

That was it. In three furious strides, I was in front of her, my hand clamping around her throat. "Do not push me, Shelly."

She gasped, but her lips curled into a perverse smile. "God, I've missed this," she whispered, her hands rising to clasp mine tighter around her neck. "Make it hurt, Tristan, dig your fingers into my skin, make me feel it."

The sheer twisted pleasure in her voice made my stomach churn. "You're sick."

Her eyes gleamed despite her ragged breaths. "Tell me you don't feel it," she purred, her fingers tightening around my wrist, her pulse beating beneath my grip. "Tell me this doesn't make you hard."

Bile rose to my throat. I released her with a forceful shove, and she stumbled back, laughing through the choke of her breath. "Stop fighting it," she rasped, her hand rubbing her throat where my grip had left red marks. "You know you miss this." There was triumph in her eyes, a sick satisfaction that made my blood boil.

I stepped back, needing to put distance between us before I did something I'd regret. "You think you've won something, don't you? You think this—whatever this is—means anything? You're more pathetic than I thought."

She laughed, leaning against the wall. "Oh, Tristan, it's not about winning. It's about reminding you who you really are. You act like you're so above it all, but I see the truth. You crave it, that power, that control. You want to own me. You need to."

Her words slithered through the air, pressing in on me. I could feel my jaw clenching, and muscles tensing, but I refused to let her get under my skin any deeper. Shelly thrived on chaos, on pushing me to the brink. Every time I gave in, even a little, it fed her delusions. She was playing a dangerous game, thinking she knew me, thinking she still had any hold. But this wasn't about her anymore. It never was.

"I'm not the man you knew," I bit. "And I'll be damned if I let you drag me back into the gutter you crawled out of."

She tilted her head, her gaze drifting lazily over me like she was sizing me up. "She'll bore you. I just have to wait it out."

"Be prepared to wait for a lifetime then."

Her shoulders shook with another wave of laughter. "She's pregnant. I only have to wait another month before her body is ruined and she can't please you anymore."

I laughed. "What nonsense are you spewing now?"

Her eyes lit and for a second she was quiet, just looking at me, then she smiled, that infuriating, twisted smile. "Well, this is unexpected. Your wife is pregnant and you have no idea of it."

My fists clenched at my side. "You don't know what you're saying."

"You poor thing."

"Shut up," I hissed through gritted teeth. "You're lying."

She raised a brow, feigning innocence. "Am I? Didn't seem like a lie when I saw her with those ultrasound pictures in the hospital. Why would she hide it from you, Tristan? Maybe she's scared you wouldn't want it. Maybe... it's not even yours."

I closed the distance between us so quickly her breath caught. "Shut your mouth," I growled, my hands twitching with the desire to grab her again, to shut her up once and for all. But I couldn't—wouldn't—give her that power.

Her grin widened, sensing the storm rising in me. "She's keeping secrets from you, Tristan. Deep down, you know it. She doesn't trust you with the truth."

The room seemed to tilt for a moment as her words rang in my head. The thought of Sienna hiding something— no. That wasn't possible. She wouldn't. Sienna wouldn't keep something like that from me. She knew how strongly I felt—she wouldn't... She— fuck. I turned away, my breath coming in sharp, angry bursts.

Why was I getting so worked up? It wasn't even possible. Shelly was trying to crawl into my head and I was giving her an easy passage. I walked to my desk and slammed the intercom. "Security. Now."

Shelly laughed again, that chilling sound that felt like nails on a chalkboard. "Running away already? Hmm? Baby?"

Within seconds, the door swung open and two guards stormed in. Her laughter died as they grabbed her, one hand locking her arms behind her back. She screamed, clawing at them, but her eyes never left me. "You can't get rid of me that easily! I'll be back for you! I love you!"

The door slammed shut, muffling the last of her shrieks.

Silence descended on the room like a heavy fog. I stood there, breathing hard, my hands braced against the desk, staring down at the glass as if I could burn a hole through it.

The doors opened again. "What the hell happened?" Stefan asked, stepping in. "What did she want?"

I didn't look at him, didn't even acknowledge his presence. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears, the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Everything Shelly had said was nonsense—poison designed to seep into the cracks, to break me down. But even as I told myself that, her words about Sienna—pregnant, hiding something from me—kept circling in my mind like a vulture over a corpse.

Why would she make up something like this? Shelly was many things but she wasn't a liar.

Fuck.

I needed to be sure.

I turned to face Stefan, my fists clenching and unclenching. "Call Evergreen."