"Mia!" Red barges into my office, wearing his distraught lover's look reserved for only when we're alone behind closed doors.

I think Kenna told him what happened after I sent her packing.

I didn't want to hear her tainted apology, that hypocrite!

"Thanks, Nina, everything has been excellent. I need no further adjustments, " I tell the MK's event organizer, Nina De Sauza, who's getting up from the chair upon the interruption from Red.

"Pleasure, Mia. I'll see you tomorrow then." Nina walks her lush Brazilian body toward the door, clothed in white jeans, black heels, and a blue blazer.

I see Red nodding at her before she leaves us alone in my office. It's lunch hour; I've lost track of time. No appetite either.

Red saunters in. "Are you okay?"

"Depends." I pull the files on the desk without giving him so much as a glance. "If it's about Kenna, I just have a question that can give you a clear picture of whether I'm okay or not." Now I look up at him with cold eyes.

A frown has crinkled his face—still a sight to the sore eyes. At every turbulence I face, he's strangely the face I yearn to behold, the touch I die to feel. He always feels like home to me.

But not today. Not right now.

"Ask away," he replies calmly.

I step out of my desk, my heels click-clacking nonchalantly toward where's standing. I shouldn't be, but I'm angry at him. At everyone. I'm just so angry.

"Suppose I found Luca's secret—the one you don't know about," I begin, and Red's eyes narrow tightly at me. "He's your trustworthy partner, but he's not who you think he is." Although brief and pathetic, laughter lurches off my lips as I fold my arms loosely on my stomach. "Luca is a fucking Australian agent sent by whatever the name is to fulfill his mission at your expense. But I don't tell you that. No, I don't. I let you roll with it. Trust him. Laugh with him. Why? Because it's not my goddamn secret to tell. Because it's—" I can't say it.

I feel a tear sliding off my cheek even though I'm laughing so pathetically.

"Mia..." Red tries to move but I raise my hand briskly, beckoning him to stop.

He obliges with difficulty.

"I would've told you, Red," I state bitterly through my teeth. "I wouldn't have cared about the fucking code of secrecy or goddamn honor; I'd just tell you straight ahead because we're partners! We have a pact, whether implied or spoken. Because I love you and I wouldn't let anyone play you for a fool no matter what their reason may be!" More tears seep out of my eyes and pain tears my heart apart.

Sniffing, I dry them away boldly with the back of my hands. I said I won't cry again. Not for these people who step on my trust again and again.

"I'm sorry," Red utters, guilty as charged. Remorse darkens his eyes, and I see his urge to get close to me, to hold me, but I deny him that once again using my hand. "I was wrong. I should've told you a long time ago but—"

"But you thought it would ruin your mission," I fill in. Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong. I just don't care. It just doesn't matter anymore. "I get it, Red. Your mission has always come first before me. Before us. I get it. After all, I'm just your luck by chance. A piece of baggage you picked along the way... both of us." I force a smile, and the burn in my eyes persists as I glance at my stomach thinking of what a burden this baby must be for him.

"That's not true, Mia!" Red argues, his chiseled jaw flexed, his eyes darker and moist. Terror. Fright. Pain. "You mean the world to me! You're the only thing I'm fighting for right now. You and our baby are the only things keeping me sane in this insane world. Damn, Mia, I love you. I shouldn't have kept Kenna's identity a secret from you but that doesn't mean—"

"Enough!" I roar furiously. "I don't need to hear her name. I want to hear nothing right now." I take a lungful of breath to retrieve my composure. "I have a meeting so I'm gonna ask you to leave too. You can pick me up later at eight; I'll be working late."

"It's dangerous to stay out late, Mia. I know you're angry but—"

"Do I look like I'm negotiating with you right now?" I come back rather harshly. Can't help it. I want to hurt him the same way I'm hurting. "You can either pick me up at eight or don't. I don't give a fuck! I've been surrounded by many Patricks all this time so maybe danger is already part of my fucking life so leave, Red! Go away; I don't need you!" I yell.

After a long moment, all Red manages to scoff. He looks at me as though I've lost my mind, and he's so right on that note. I've lost it.

"Fine. As you wish," he says coolly, displeased by the attitude I'm throwing at him. "I'll get you at eight and please don't leave the building until then."

I don't respond. Disappointed, Red exhales deeply and turns around.

But he suddenly stops to ask, "And Anne? What happened to her? She can't be around on her own—"

"What a hero!" I drawl contemptuously like a green-eyed monster sitting on my chest. "You take care of everyone's needs, huh? Why don't you fuck her too so that I don't have to wait around for another lie and deceit coming from you?" I snarl at him, blinded by anger burning inside me in flames.

"Okay, what is this now, Mia?" Red bawls.

"Nothing!" I trudge back to my desk. "But I took care of Anne for you so you can have one burden off your shoulder. Smith has taken her to the Federal State House and from now on she's his responsibility and not yours."

Silence. Red refuses to respond, which forces me to look back at him.

"What? You want to keep an eye on her yourself?" I snap, and my anger flares all over again.

Red shakes his head several times before gripping the door handle. "I can't deal with you right now. I'll see you later," he whispers and walks away.

"Whatever, " I mutter under my breath, and more than anything, I also don't want to deal with him anymore.

I want to set him free.

I'm done loving and trusting like a fool!

For the next ten minutes, I stay on the rooftop of the building, watching the whole of downtown Portland from above. I see the blue sky and silver clouds, the cityscape, along my shredded trust. My eyes are as dry as the vaults of my heart. I wish I didn't love it too much.

Nothing good comes out of Love.

Well, except for my little bean. My baby. My only true ally.

I'm exhausted. As I look down the busy road, an intense desire to give up engulfs me like a deadly tide in the sea. How I want to forget every ache I've stumbled upon because each time I think I've lived the last betrayal, another one lands in front of me.

Can't I just close my eyes and go back to where I began?

To Paris, 2010.

I was happy and full of life. I had no name, but my dreams were bigger than my success. What if I didn't go to Paris at all? What if I followed my mom's warnings and stayed in New Orleans? Is there a right or wrong choice in life unless you live each failure to the fullest? Now I wonder.

But no. It's those experiences made me who I am.

"Declan," I speak into the phone, enjoying the slap of the cool breeze on my face and the gentle sun overhead, "I'm ready. Gather everyone in the boardroom."

"Right away," he replies.

My company. It's time to give it up.

____

When I return to my office, I pour myself a glass of water and gulp it in one go. I get back to the paperwork. At last, I announced my resignation from the board of directors. It came like a bomb, and I was surprised that most of them wanted to veto the idea.

"You can't leave just like that? What the about the launch? What's the point of the MK brand if you're not there?" I heard this today.

"MK is its people... the dedicated team working day and night to keep it growing. I wouldn't be anybody without them," I replied proudly. "I'll make sure the launch is a success, and that's the condition for my official resignation and handover of the brand to the new owner."

Still, no one seemed excited.

I smile while typing on my computer. So the bastards loved my guts.

My biggest achievement is proving to them that women can equally do big things when they set their minds to it. I wanted more, and I still do, but I've come to realize there are other things more important than business success and big names.

And I must protect it at all costs.

As I leave my chair to photocopy a document, my head starts to spin. I lean back heavily against the desk, trying to catch my breath. No, fuck, I can't get sick right now! I feel woozy and drowsy out of the blue, and it's nothing I've ever felt before.

I clutch my head and look at the empty glass on the desk, apprehensive.

"No way," I whisper, my breath labored.

Am I drugged?

With difficulty, I hold onto my desk to reach for my phone. But my legs are too heavy to move. I feel paralyzed on the knees; I buckle down, clinging to the edges. I breathe shakily, and my heart accelerates as though it's about to rip through my chest.

My clammy hands slip from the desk and I fall straight to the floor. No! My breath shallows as I lay down, barely feeling a muscle in my body. But even though I can't move, I can see a pair of long legs with black boots and jeans slithering toward me.

A man. He comes closer, then stops. I want to open my mouth and scream, but I can't. Useless! I can't do a damn thing. And my eyes—my eyes can't hold anymore. A dark cloud invades my vision and slowly I draw everything out of sight.

__________

A/N: Any thoughts on this? Is she sick or drugged?