?Chapter 6:


    Debby let out a sharp, sarcasticugh, shaking her head as if she had just heard the most absurd thing in the world. “Rachel, you really won’t believe it until reality ps you in the face, will you?”


    “Maybe!” Rachel shot back with a shrug.


    Still, if the day ever came when Brian told her to leave—if he said he wanted Tracy instead, that Tracy was the one he truly loved—she wouldn’t beg. She would walk away without looking back, vanishing from his worldpletely.


    But that day hadn’te yet. And right now, she had no intention of letting Brian go.


    The days stretched into an abyss of silence between Rachel and Brian.


    Neither reached out, pride and pain forming an invisible barrier.


    Concerned Brian’s grandma might sense her turmoil, Rachel fabricated an excuse to return home the following day.


    Though she had nned to resume work the following Monday, fate had other ns.


    Early Friday morning, her assistant’s urgent call shattered her solitude. “Ms. Marsh, Titan Innovations has suddenly rejected our design. The contract signing is in jeopardy.”


    “This can’t be happening!” Rachel’s professional instincts kicked in. “I’ll be there immediately.”


    She rushed to thepany, her usually immacte appearance somewhat disheveled from haste.


    The elevator doors parted with a soft chime, and Rachel stepped inside before registering the upants.


    Her heart stumbled in her chest—Brian stood there with Tracy at his side.


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    Pride kept her rooted in ce; she had done nothing wrong to warrant retreat. She turned away, presenting her back to them as silence descended like a heavy curtain.


    The lingering scent of tobo wrapped around her senses, a reminder of Brian’s recent smoke.


    Tracy’s honeyed voice pierced the quiet. “Brian, I know you smoke for social asions, but it’s harmful. Please try to cut back.”


    “Okay, I will,” Brian agreed readily.


    The simple exchange twisted like a knife in Rachel’s heart.


    How many times had she made the same request, only to be rebuffed with his cold response: “Men don’t appreciate being controlled by women. I know my own limits.”


    The contrast left a bitter taste in her mouth.


    Rachel forced her eyes onto the rising numbers of the elevator disy. A few more floors. Just a little longer.


    Tracy’s voice shattered her concentration. “Rachel.”


    Rachel maintained her silence, feigning deafness.


    Tracy turned to Brian, her voiceden with concern. “Brian, have you two quarreled? If I’m the cause, I should apologize. Don’t let your rtionship suffer.”


    “No, it’s not about you.” Brian’s gentle tone felt like another betrayal. “Don’t me yourself.”


    That was Rachel’s limit. She had no intention of staying in that confined space a second longer than necessary.


    Just as the elevator doors were about to open, the lights flickered—then everything went ck. A split secondter, the elevator lurched violently and began to plummet.


    Rachel’s heart stopped. Panic surged through her, and without thinking, she reached out in the darkness, searching for Brian.


    Her fingers grasped at empty air.


    “Brian!” she called, her voice trembling.


    The only response was Tracy’s frantic sobbing. “Brian, what’s happening? Are we going to die? I’m scared—hold me, please!”


    Rachel was terrified too. The pitch-ck void around her made her chest tighten, cold sweat breaking out along her spine. She had always feared the dark.


    Her body trembled violently, her breath shallow, her heart hammering so loudly she could barely hear anything else.


    Then, through the chaos, Brian’s steady voice cut through. “Don’t be afraid. Give me your hand.”


    Rachel’s breath caught. Without hesitation, she reached out, waiting for that familiar warmth to anchor her.


    But she was wrong.


    Her hand grasped nothing.


    The elevator kept plummeting. Rachel curled into herself, pulling her knees close to her chest, as fear swallowed her whole.


    Rachel’s fingers dug into her clothes as she bit her lip, anchoring herself against the terror.


    Time stretched endlessly until the elevator lights sputtered back to life. As she lifted her head, the harsh fluorescent re revealed a scene that pierced her heart—Tracy nestled in Brian’s protective embrace, dabbing at her tears with an air of delicate vulnerability.


    Brian made no move to distance himself from Tracy’s fragile form.


    Unable to bear the sight any longer, Rachel fled the elevator.


    Whether from her desperate flight or an injury sustained during the elevator’s plunge, searing pain shot through her ankle by the time she reached her office. Yet the physical agony paled inparison to the emotional torment that gripped her heart.


    Samira Bates, her assistant, entered just as Rachel had removed her shoes, revealing an angry swelling that had bloomed across her ankle.


    Her assistant’s face filled with concern as she rushed forward. “Oh, God! Your ankle looks terrible! Let me get some ointment right away.”


    “The Titan Innovations situation takes priority,” Rachel insisted, pushing aside her difort. “Brief me on what’s happening.”


    Samira handed over a stack of documents, her expression grave. “We’ve uncovered something disturbing. A smallpany has presented an almost identical design at a significantly lower price point, prompting Titan Innovations to reconsider. Here’s their proposal.”


    Rachel’s hands trembled as she examined the designs. This wasn’t mere inspiration—it was tant giarism.


    “Do you have theirpany address?”


    “Yes,” Samira confirmed.


    Despite the throbbing pain, Rachel forced her foot back into her shoe and stood. “We’re going there now.”


    “Should we reconsider?” Samira said. “Your injury needs rest. This could wait a few days.”


    It was true.


    The suggestion, though well-intentioned, only strengthened Rachel’s resolve. Unlike Tracy, who had found immediate support upon her return, Rachel had built her position through relentless determination.


    She couldn’t afford the luxury of rest—not even for a moment.


    In the president’s office, Tracy’s voice carried a note of concern.


    “Brian, about the elevator incident—perhaps I should speak with Rachel. She seemed upset, and I’d hate for any misunderstandings to arise because of me.”


    Brian’s expression remained impassive as he looked up. “You can go. I’ll handle this.”


    After Tracy’s departure, Brian attempted to reach Rachel, but his calls went unanswered.


    Finally, Samira’s phone rang.


    “Hello, this is Samira speaking. How may I help you?” she answered professionally.


    “This is Brian White.”


    Brian White?


    Samira’s heart nearly stopped. The president himself? Calling her line?


    Her voice quavered with disbelief. “Mr. White, how can I assist you?”


    “Your manager Rachel Marsh isn’t answering her phone. I need to speak with her,” Brian stated directly.


    Trembling with nervous energy, Samira hurried to Rachel’s side, lowering her voice respectfully. “Ms. Marsh, Mr. White is asking to speak with you.”


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