"The hardest part about trust
is knowing when to doubt"

The persistent hum of my phone buzzed on the counter, a reminder of Tandy's latest flood of voice memos, each one more urgent than the last. I could almost hear her busy, breathless tone: "Morgan, darling, don't forget! This event is going to be huge! You've got to get here early. Everyone's going to be there, and you've got to make an impression!" I couldn't quite tell if she was excited or just wound too tight.

I glanced at myself in the mirror before I slipped into my black v-cut dress, tugging the fabric just right to hide the things I didn't want to show and accentuate the parts I still liked. My hair was curled loosely, falling in waves well past my shoulders. My tights felt constricting around my legs, but I didn't mind. I stepped into my red bottom heels, holding onto the full body mirror in the bedroom.

The door creaked open behind me, and I turned to see Chris leaning against the frame, still in his work clothes—dark jeans and a hoodie that looked too cozy to be worn to an upscale event.

"What's all this?" His voice was low, teasing, but there was a twinkle in his eye, his usual charm coming through despite the exhaustion in his posture.

I barely suppressed a sigh, glancing back at the mirror. "An event for the wellness project—the one Tandy's been on me about all week." I adjusted the watch on my wrist, trying to focus on the task instead of the pressure building in my chest. "You forgot, didn't you?"

Chris stepped forward, eyes scanning me with a smile that could've melted anything. "Forgot?" he said, leaning in closer with that effortless grin of his. "Impossible. I could never forget something where my beautiful fiancée is going to look this good."

He kissed my shoulder and then my neck.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, but I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. "I'm serious, Chris. You said you'd come with me."

Chris took a step closer, eyes never leaving my breasts spilling out of my black bra. "I know, I know. I forgot. But I was busy." His hand brushed gently over my arm, his fingers warm.

I couldn't help but laugh, even if a part of me was irritated by his easygoing way of sidestepping the situation. "Whatever."

I looked into the mirror and dabbed my finger across my lipgloss to my liking.

Chris, unexpectedly, grabbed me by the hips and thrusts into my backside.

I'm surprised by his sudden roughness, but can't hide my intrigue.

"Chris," I murmured, melting into his chest.

"You look so fucking beautiful," he whispered in my ear, hands dipping between my thighs.

My mouth went dry as he grabbed me by the throat.

"I don't think I want you leaving the house like this." He growled, grabbing one of my breasts in his hands.

"I invited Faith. She's on her way."

"We just need a minute." He claimed, removing his hoodie.

Tempting, but I had to turn him down.

"Stop, babe." I hissed, pulling away.

That's when the dogs started barking so I go to the window and look at the driveway where Faith parked her car.

"I get it," Chris sounds defeated. "This is karma."

I rolled my eyes at him as I slip into my dress.

He stepped out of his shoes and jeans to go start the shower.

Once he returned back to me at the mirror, Chris gave me a kiss. It was hard, intense. Demanding.

"I'll make it up to you later. I promise." He claimed, lifting up my chin. 

I nodded, trying to ignore the small flutter in my chest. "Yeah, later."

But something about the way he said it—so casual, like nothing mattered but what was in front of him—stirred a familiar ache I couldn't shake. Maybe it was just my own nerves about the night ahead. Or maybe it was just one more reminder that, despite everything, we were still drifting in different directions.

➤

As I arrived at the venue, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses greeted me, the soft buzz of excitement filling the air. It was held at the community center in Easton Hills, but with the way the lights sparkled off the polished floors and the soft jazz playing in the background, it felt like something much more upscale. The long tables were draped with white cloths, each one decorated with tiny candles that flickered like stars against the shadows. People in sharp suits and glittering dresses moved around the room, networking, laughing, and giving off an air of polished perfection.

I could barely keep up with Tandy's expectations as I walked into the center of the room, feeling out of place in my black dress among all the shimmer and glow. She'd wanted me to "make an impression," but I already felt too much like a wallflower trying to blend into the crowd.

"I can't get over how good you look." Faith said to me.

I linked arms with hers as we walked through the sea of people, some of which I recognized others I didn't.

"Thank you. So do you." I told her, sitting down at an open table.

"Jabari couldn't keep his hands off of me earlier." She giggled.

I smiled admirably at her blushing cheeks. "I'm happy you two are getting so comfortable. Look at how big you're smiling!" I teased.

Faith covered her face and continued laughing girlishly.

"Everything is just so right with him, you know?" She sighed, swirling her glass of champagne.

I nodded, my smile fading. "Yeah..."

"Look who finally decided to show up." Tandy's voice rang out from behind me, pulling me from my thoughts. She appeared at my side, eyes sparkling, her smile broad and a little too bright.

I forced a smile in return. "Sorry, it took longer to get ready than I thought."

She waved it off with a flourish. "No worries, darling! Come on, I want you to meet a few people."

She led me around the room, introducing me to well-dressed couples and professionals I wasn't familiar with. As she moved through the crowd, she kept a hand on my arm like she was guiding me through a maze of social obligations. I could hear her talking animatedly to others, always name-dropping, always positioning herself as the most important person in the room.

While Tandy was busy charming everyone, I found myself drifting away from the conversation, my eyes scanning the room for Faith. I feel bad for letting Tandy sweep me away from my plus one, I wished she would come and save me. I could feel myself slipping into the background of Tandy's world—a world I didn't quite belong to.

Just as I started to get lost in my thoughts, I overheard a conversation that pulled me right back into reality.

"—Malcolm always had a way of getting things done, didn't he?"

I froze. The voice was low, almost a whisper, but the words were clear.

"That's why we need someone like him in the loop," another voice responded to Tandy.

My heart skipped a beat. Malcolm? I couldn't believe my ears. The Malcolm I'd known, the one I'd spent years trying to escape even after his death—was he somehow involved in this town's inner workings?

I looked around quickly, trying to locate the voices, but all I could see were the polished smiles and the high society standing in little groups. The two men were out of sight, but the words echoed in my mind. "Getting things done." What did that mean?

Shaking the thought away, I slipped away in the sea of people. Was it just a coincidence? Or had Malcolm Jameson's reach truly extended even into the heart of this community?

"Morgan, darling, are you okay?" Tandy's voice cut through the quiet as she found me outside under the gazebo.

"Y-yeah," I replied, the word catching in my throat. "I just needed some air."

I slipped my phone from my purse and hit record, keeping it hidden behind my back. My pulse thrummed as she stepped into the gazebo, her heels clicking against the stone floor.

"Too much for you in there?" she asked, her tone sweet. "I know these events can be a lot, but you're one of us now."

Her smile was too wide and polished. It sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. Still, I forced myself to mirror it, teeth clenched just enough to ache.

"Who's Malcolm?" I asked suddenly, the words sharp enough to cut the humid air between us.

Tandy's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, her brows rising slightly. "Who?"

"Malcolm," I repeated, holding her gaze. "I heard someone mention him—something about needing him around."

She blinked, her thick lashes flickering like shutters over unreadable windows. "Did you hear me say anything about a Malcolm?"

I hesitated, my gut twisting. "No," I admitted, unsure.

Her lips curved into a smirk as she crossed her arms. "Then don't ask me about it," she said, her voice light but laced with an edge. Her gaze wandered off into the distance, but I caught the tension in her jaw, the subtle shift in her shoulders.

"If you know something, you better tell me now," I said, my words coming faster than I intended.

I've been through this too many times to play games. I had my suspicions about Tandy before, it would be just my luck that she's another one of his pawns.

Tandy turned back to me, the smirk deepening. Her head tilted slightly, as though she were appraising me. "You remind me of myself, Morgan," she said, her voice lower now, almost intimate. "Back when I was... different."

"Different?" I echoed, the word catching like a thorn.

Her eyes narrowed just enough to make my skin prickle. "You're smart," she said, "but not clever. Not yet. You act on instinct—bold, optimistic, empathetic. It's almost admirable. Almost." She stepped closer, her presence pressing down on me. "And you're far more beautiful than I ever was. That's why people are drawn to you, why they can't help but like you."

She smiled again, this time smaller, colder. "Even I didn't want to like you, but here we are."

"Thanks, I think." I mumbled, eyes scattering as I twiddle with my phone to turn off the video.

"I'm going to head back inside. Coming, darling?" She asked me, lips stretched across her face.

I hesitated to smile. "I'm right behind you."

Tandy went ahead, taking a sip of her red wine as she disappears into the night.

The second she was back inside, I dialed Annette's number.

My anxiety increased as I waited for the private investigator to pick up.

"Wes Davis speaking." A British man answered the phone.

I pulled the phone away from my face to look at the screen and make sure I had the right contact.

Eyebrows furrowed, I replied, "Is this Annette Butler's phone?"

The man snickers as if I told a joke. "It is, she's out."

"When will she be back, it's important?"

"Annette's retired, I'm certain you know that, Miss Bennett."

I gasped. "How do you know my name?"

"Caller ID, Miss Bennett. And Annette's told me a great deal about you."

"I really need her."

"She's on holiday in Lagos."

My eyes rolled back. "Of course she is."

"I'm prepared to help you. What is it?"

I sighed. "It's probably nothing."

"You know better than I do."

➤

The house was quiet when I stepped inside, the soft click of the door latch echoing in the stillness. I kicked off my 'So Kate' heels by the entryway, my feet sinking gratefully into the hardwood floor. The faint scent of Chris's cologne lingered in the air, and for a moment, I felt the absence of him like a weight.

The glow of the kitchen lights drew me in, and I let my purse slip from my shoulder onto the counter. A glass dish sat on the stovetop, covered loosely in foil—Chris must've left dessert out for me. I peeled back the corner and smiled. Two perfect slices of red velvet sat inside, drizzled with buttercream icing - my favorite.

"Sweet boy," I murmured under my breath, shaking my head. He knew me too well.

I plated one slice, grabbing a fork from the drawer, and carried it to the living room. The house hummed with a low, comfortable silence, broken only by the soft click of my phone as I unlocked it. I scrolled through emails with one hand, taking a bite of cake with the other.

The messages were mundane—wedding details, HOA updates, a note from Faith about the wellness project. But one email stopped me cold.

It was from an unknown address that read:

We both know you'll never outrun him. Even if he's gone

My stomach tightened, the bite of red velvet cake turning to crumbs in my mouth. I hovered over the screen before forwarding it to Annette's partner, Wes. He proved to be competent and trustworthy after our phone call earlier.

The cake didn't taste as sweet after that, but I finished it anyway, my mind drifting as I ate. I cleaned my plate, rinsed it in the sink, and headed upstairs, stripping off my dress on the way.

The shower was a sanctuary, the hot water washing away the tension clinging to my shoulders. I let my forehead rest against the cool acrylic, eyes closed, the sound of the water drowning out everything else.

By the time I stepped out, wrapped in a soft robe, I felt lighter. I padded into the bedroom, pulling back the comforter on the bed. My phone still sat downstairs, but I didn't go back for it.

Sliding into bed, I stared at the ceiling for a long moment, listening to the creaks and groans of the house as it settled.

11:52pm

I couldn't sleep, but I didn't want to.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering where Chris was, when Duke and Stevie started barking downstairs. That told me their father was finally home.

A moment later, I heard the front door unlock, followed by the familiar jingle of Chris's keys clashing against the kitchen island. His heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs, growing louder as he ascended.

The bedroom door creaked open.

"Morgan," he whispered softly.

I didn't respond, keeping my eyes shut and pretending to be asleep.

I listened as he kicked off his shoes, the dull thud of each one hitting the floor. The sound of his jeans unzipping came next, followed by the soft rustle as they dropped.

The bed dipped as his weight pressed into it, his knees sinking into the mattress. Then, the covers slid back as he pulled them off my body.

His hand tapped my shoulder, his voice low and tender. "Roll over, baby."

I did, blinking my eyes open to meet his. The yearning in his gaze was unmistakable.

Chris yanked off his shirt and kissed me, hard and desperate, like he was trying to devour me.

I lifted my arms, letting him slide my gold slip nightgown over my head. My breasts spilled free, and his lips were on me instantly, teasing my nipple between his teeth.

He ravished me like a starved man, his moans breaking between every touch and movement.

Gently, he laid me on my side, his lips trailing along my cheek, neck, and back.

I needed this. God, I needed him. So, I didn't stop him—but I wasn't planning to make it easy. Tonight, he was doing all the work.