Mira's POV
I'm going to the meeting.
I said it the moment I woke up. Before I could change my mind.
Ryder was already in the kitchen making coffee. He stopped mid-pour.
Alone? he asked carefully.
Alone.
Mira
No. I held up my hand. You don't get to fight this for me. I need to do this myself.
He studied me for a long moment. Then nodded. Okay.
Okay? I'd expected an argument. A lecture. Something.
It's your choice, Ryder said. I'll respect it.
But you don't agree.
Doesn't matter what I agree with. It's your life.
That simple statement made something loosen in my chest.
He poured two cups of coffee. Handed me one. Our fingers brushed.
I pulled away too quickly.
Breakfast? he asked.
I'll make it, I said. You made it yesterday. And the day before.
I don't mind.
Well, I do. This is my apartment too. I should cook sometimes.
A small smile played on his lips. Fair enough.
I pulled out eggs and bread. Started cooking. Ryder sat at the counter watching.
You're staring, I said.
You're interesting to watch.
That's creepy.
Is it? Or is it paying attention?
I cracked an egg harder than necessary. There's a difference.
Is there?
I looked at him. He was smiling. Actually smiling. Like this was fun.
And weirdly... it kind of was.
You're annoying, I said.
So you've mentioned.
Multiple times.
I'm keeping count.
Despite everything the confusion, the fear, the insanity of this whole situation I almost laughed.
Almost.
I served breakfast. We ate in silence. But it wasn't uncomfortable. Just... quiet.
The meeting's at nine, I said finally.
I know.
How do you know?
I got copied on the email. Controlling shareholder, remember?
Right. He owned the firm. Could probably read all my emails if he wanted.
That should have scared me.
Instead, I was just tired.
Will you... I paused. Will you be there?
Do you want me to be?
Honest answer? I didn't know.
Maybe, I admitted. Not in the room. Just... nearby. In case.
In case what?
In case I need backup.
Ryder's expression softened. I'll be in the building. Call if you need me.
I won't need you.
But I'll be there anyway.
We finished eating. I got ready for the meeting. Professional clothes. Armor.
When I came out, Ryder was watching the news on TV.
My face filled the screen.
The engagement party video. Again. It had been shared half a million times now.
Turn it off, I said.
He did. Immediately.
Thank you.
Of course.
I grabbed my bag. Headed for the door.
Mira?
I turned.
Ryder stood there, hands in his pockets, looking at me with those grey eyes that saw too much.
You're going to be amazing, he said quietly.
Something warm spread through my chest.
You don't know that.
Yes, I do.
I left before I could say something stupid. Like thank you. Or stay. Or any of the hundred confused feelings tangling in my chest.
The meeting was exactly as awful as I expected.
Six senior partners sat around a table. Marcus at the head. Sloane in the corner taking notes.
They all stared when I walked in.
Mira, Patricia Hartwell said. Thank you for coming.
I sat down. Kept my face neutral.
I'll get right to the point, Patricia continued. Given recent events, we have concerns about your ability to maintain professional relationships with colleagues.
You mean Marcus, I said.
Silence.
This firm values discretion, another partner said. Your personal life has become very... public.
My personal life? I kept my voice level. You mean the fact that my fiancé publicly humiliated me?
That's not
And you're concerned about MY professionalism? Not his?
Marcus leaned forward. Mira, let's not make this harder than it needs to be.
Oh, I'm making it hard? That's rich.
We're offering you a generous severance package, Patricia said quickly. Three months' salary. Strong recommendation letter. You can leave quietly, with dignity.
You want me to quit.
We think it's best for everyone.
I looked around the table. At these people I'd worked with for three years. People I'd thought respected me.
They all looked away.
Except Marcus. He stared right at me. Triumphant.
This was his plan. Force me out. Keep his position. Win.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Ryder: Whatever they're offering, say no. Trust me.
I looked at the message. Then at Marcus.
No, I said.
Patricia blinked. Excuse me?
No. I'm not quitting. I haven't done anything wrong. If you want to fire me, you'll have to actually fire me.
Mira, Marcus said in that condescending tone I used to think was charming. Be reasonable.
I am being reasonable. You're the one who cheated. You're the one who caused the scene. Why should I be punished?
Because I'm a senior partner and you're not.
There it was. The truth.
Is that an official position of this firm? I asked. That senior partners can abuse associates without consequences?
Patricia went pale. That's not what he meant.
Sounded like it to me.
My phone buzzed again.
Ryder: Keep going. You're winning.
I think we need to table this discussion, Patricia said. Clearly emotions are running high. We'll reconvene next week.
No need, I said. I stood up. I'll save you the trouble. I quit.
Marcus smiled.
But not quietly, I continued. I'm filing a formal complaint with the bar association. Hostile work environment. Retaliation. Abuse of power. All of it.
The smile vanished.
You can't prove any of that, Marcus said.
Can't I? I have emails. Text messages. Witnesses. Three years of documentation showing how you took credit for my work, undermined me in meetings, and created a toxic environment. Want to bet what the ethics committee thinks?
I walked out before anyone could respond.
My hands were shaking. My heart was racing.
But I felt... good.
For the first time in days, I felt powerful.
Ryder was waiting in the lobby. He took one look at my face and smiled.
How'd it go?
I quit. And threatened to destroy Marcus's career.
Proud of you.
We walked out together. Into the morning sun. Away from that building and everyone in it.
What now? I asked.
Now we go home.
Home. He said it so easily.
Like the apartment was already home.
Like we were already... something.
We took the subway back. Ryder made lunch. I actually helped this time.
The afternoon passed in strange, comfortable silence. We moved around each other in the small kitchen. Not talking. Just... existing.
It should have been awkward.
It wasn't.
That evening, I found my old sketchbook in my bag. The one I'd carried for years but never opened.
I sat on the couch and started drawing.
Just random lines at first. Then shapes. Then... Ryder.
I was sketching him without realizing it. His profile. The way he held his coffee mug. The small smile he got when he read something funny.
That's good.
I jumped. He was standing behind me, looking over my shoulder.
Don't sneak up on people! I slammed the sketchbook closed.
Sorry. I just... He sat down next to me. Can I see?
No.
Please?
Something about the way he asked made me open it.
He looked at the sketch of himself. Then the page before it. And the one before that.
All drawings from years ago. From art school. From when I still believed I could be an artist.
These are incredible, Ryder said quietly.
They're old.
They're beautiful. He looked at me. Why did you stop?
You know why. My father. Law school. Real life.
Real life doesn't mean giving up the things that make you happy.
Doesn't it? You gave up architecture.
He flinched. That's different.
How?
I had to. My family needed me.
And mine needed me to be practical.
We sat there. Both of us holding our lost dreams.
You should draw more, Ryder said. You're really good.
Such simple words.
But they hit me like lightning.
Marcus never asked about my art. My father actively discouraged it. Even my friends from law school didn't know I used to draw.
But this man this confusing, overwhelming, impossible man saw it. Valued it. Wanted me to do more.
Why do you care? I whispered.
Because it matters to you. That makes it matter to me.
I looked at him. Really looked.
His grey eyes were soft. Genuine. Looking at me like I was important.
I don't understand you, I said.
Good.
Good?
If you understood me completely, this would be boring.
A laugh escaped before I could stop it.
A real laugh.
Ryder smiled. There it is.
What?
The real you. The one who laughs. Who draws. Who fights back in meetings. I like her.
My heart did something complicated in my chest.
I should... I stood up. It's late. I should sleep.
Mira.
I stopped.
What you did today, Ryder said. Standing up to them. That took courage.
Or stupidity.
No. Courage. And I'm proud of you.
No one had ever said they were proud of me.
I fled to the bedroom before I could cry.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I kept thinking about Ryder. About his words. About the way he looked at my drawings.
About the way he made me feel seen.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown: He's playing you. The real reason he bought the firm, the building, everythingit's not love. It's guilt. Ask him about the night your grandmother died. Ask him who was with her. Ask him what promise he made. The truth will destroy you.
My hands started shaking.
I got out of bed. Walked to the living room.
Ryder was asleep on the couch. His phone was on the coffee table.
I shouldn't.
I knew I shouldn't.
But I picked it up anyway.
No password. It opened right away.
The most recent call was to someone named J. Kim.
I opened the text messages.
The last one, sent this afternoon:
Ryder: She's starting to trust me. But someone keeps sending her messages. Warnings. They know about Mrs. Chen.
Kim: Can they prove anything?
Ryder: I don't know. If Mira finds out what really happened that night, she'll never forgive me.
Kim: Then make sure she doesn't find out.
The phone slipped from my hands.
Ryder opened his eyes. Saw me standing there.
Saw his phone on the floor.
Mira
What happened the night my grandmother died? My voice was shaking. What did you do?
He sat up. It's not what you think.
Then what is it?
Silence.
TELL ME!
I was there, he said quietly. That night. In the hospital. Your grandmother called me. She was dying and she wanted to see me.
Why you? Why not me?
Because she didn't want you to watch her die. She wanted your last memory to be a good one.
That wasn't her choice to make!
No. But it was mine. She asked me to stay. To make sure she wasn't alone. So I did.
And?
And she made me promise. To watch over you. To give you the apartment. To help you when everything fell apart. His voice cracked. To make sure you found your way home.
That's it? That's the big secret?
No. He stood up. Faced me. The real secret is that she knew. About Marcus. About Vanessa. About all of it. She knew it was coming and she made me promise not to warn you.
The room tilted.
What?
She said you needed to fall. To break. To lose everything. So you could find out who you really are. And I promised her I wouldn't interfere.
But you did interfere! You bought the firm, the building
After she died. After you were already broken. I kept my promise. I didn't warn you. I let it happen.
I stared at him.
He knew.
He knew Marcus was cheating. Knew my life was about to explode.
And he did nothing.
Get out, I whispered.
Mira
GET OUT OF MY APARTMENT!
It's my apartment too. The lease
I don't care about the lease! I don't care about anything! You let me get destroyed! You WATCHED!
Because your grandmother asked me to! Because she knew
She's DEAD! She doesn't get to control my life from the grave! And neither do you!
I ran back to the bedroom. Slammed the door. Locked it.
Sank to the floor.
He knew.
All of it.
And he let it happen.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown: Now you know the first truth. Ready for the second one? The pregnancy isn't Marcus's. It's someone else's. And Ryder knows who. Ask him. Ask him everything. The lies are just beginning.
I looked at the door.
Twenty-six days left.
And I'd just discovered my roommate was even worse than I thought.