Chapter 9: Shadows in the Gray Hour (Part 2)

Archer let out a short huff of a laugh and smiled. "Fine. Point taken."

The moment he turned toward the bathroom and the water started running, I grabbed my bag and bolted. I sat on the sofa in the living room for ten seconds, waiting for my heart to stop thundering against my ribs. Then, I left the penthouse without looking back.

Down in the lobby, I waited for my Uber. Once I was safely in the back seat and the car began to pull away from the curb, I pulled out my phone.

“Archer... breakfast is on the table. My mom just texted, she’s almost at my apartment. I grabbed a ride so you wouldn't be late. See you later.”

I hit send and leaned my head against the cool glass of the window. My eyes blurred. I bit my lip until it hurt, refusing to let the first tear fall until I was behind my own locked door.

***

Back at the penthouse, Archer stepped out of the steam, drying himself off. He dressed for the office in his usual charcoal suit, looking every bit the high-powered manager. He walked into the living area, glancing around.

"Evelyn?"

Silence answered him. A flicker of anxiety crossed his face—a brief fear that maybe, just maybe, she’d seen him leave last night.

He pulled out his phone to call her, but the anxiety vanished the moment he read her text. A smug, small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Right... the parents."

He tucked the phone away and walked to the dining table. The sight of the elaborate breakfast made him pull out a chair with a satisfied sigh.

"She went all out this morning," he muttered to himself, picking up a fork. "She definitely doesn't suspect a thing."

He ate with a calm, predatory appetite.

***

The clock in the Veridian Atrium lobby read 7:55 a.m. when Archer walked in. The morning air was crisp, trapped between the glass revolving doors, as employees filed in with hushed greetings. Archer offered a curt nod to the security desk, his stride confident as he headed for the elevators.

At her desk, Sophie Marlowe paused, her fingers hovering over her keyboard. She watched Archer walk in alone—no Evelyn trailing behind him today. Her eyes narrowed, but she returned her gaze to her monitor.

By 10:00 a.m., Evelyn’s chair was still empty. Archer’s office door swung open; he stepped out, face set in a neutral mask, looking like a man on a deadline. He headed straight for the elevators.

Sophie watched his every move. Something felt off. The rhythm was wrong.

She grabbed her phone and fired off an iMessage.

“Ev... you’re not in? Everything okay?”

The reply came almost instantly.

“No, Soph. Feeling sick. I asked Archer to clear it with HR.”

“Oh... that explains why he showed up solo. I thought you guys had another blowout. He just left the office in a hurry, too.”

“He left? Sophie... please follow him.”

Sophie’s thumbs froze. She squinted at the screen, her heart skipping a beat.

“What’s going on, Evelyn? Did he do something?”

“I’ll explain later. If you can get away, follow him. Keep me posted. I’m going to head out now.”

Sophie let out a low breath. She bit her lip, the gears in her head turning.

“On it. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

She stood up and headed for her manager’s office. Her request for an early lunch was granted without much fuss. She moved quickly, slipping through the lobby just in time to see Archer speaking to someone near the entrance. She hurried past them toward the parking garage, slid into her car, and gripped the steering wheel.

“God, if he just goes to a meeting, I’m going to look like a total stalker,” she grumbled.

Less than five minutes later, the glass doors swung open. Archer walked briskly to his car. Sophie turned the ignition, her pulse quickening as she prepared to trail him through the midday Manhattan traffic.

***

Twenty minutes later, in Evelyn’s apartment...

Since arriving home, I hadn't done anything but break. The apartment was a vacuum of silence, save for the ragged sound of my own sobbing. The story about my parents was a shield—a necessary lie to buy me the space to fall apart.

I wiped my cheeks with a damp tissue, forcing myself to stand. I grabbed a pair of oversized sunglasses from the console table, hiding the evidence of my breakdown.

“Get it together,” I whispered. “Be ready.”

My phone buzzed on the counter. My heart slammed against my chest as I tapped the notification.

“Evelyn... he’s meeting that woman again. At the bistro.”

The world tilted. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed. The air left my lungs, leaving me cold and hollow.

“He’s with Sienna,” I breathed, my voice trembling. “Last night wasn't enough for him?”

My fingers shook as I typed a reply, asking for the exact location. As soon as the pin dropped, I grabbed my keys and ran for the door. I didn't care about the pain anymore. I wanted the truth, and I wanted it now.