The Prime Dynamics office was eerily quiet, the usual hum of keyboards and murmured conversations replaced by an unsettling stillness. It was half-past five, and it seemed Harper was the only soul in the architecture department. She’d just arrived, intending to clear the mounting paperwork on her desk before heading to the company’s annual Christmas party.

  Her midi Oscar de la Renta dress, a fiery orange masterpiece, clung to her figure, the intricate floral appliqués catching the dim office light. The semi-sheer fabric beneath whispered against her skin as she moved, her strappy neon-green stilettos clicking softly against the polished floor. It was a gift from Kian, and she looked forward to the moment he saw her in it.

  About 30 minutes later, the sharp staccato of heels echoed down the hallway. Harper glanced up to see Jyn approaching with a steaming cup, the faint scent of coffee wafting through the air.

  “Harper! I didn’t expect to see you here,” Jyn chirped, her tone honeyed but her smirk brittle, like sugar on the verge of cracking. “How’s the project going?”

  Harper forced a polite response, though her stomach tightened at the sight of Jyn’s overly enthusiastic expression. “It’s going well. We broke ground almost a fortnight ago, so things are moving quickly.”

  “That’s great to hear,” Jyn replied, stepping closer. Then, with a calculated stumble, she “accidentally” spilled the hot coffee over Harper’s outfit. The liquid seared through the fabric, leaving a dark, spreading stain. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! I’m such a klutz!” Jyn exclaimed, her concern painfully false.

  Harper gasped, the piping hot coffee biting into her skin. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep her composure. “It’s fine,” she said quickly, though her heart sank. “I’ll just clean it up.”

  Jyn grabbed a bunch of napkins, her obsidian irises flickering with something Harper couldn’t quite place. “Let me help you.”

  Harper shook her head, her words blameless despite the slight tremor in her voice. “No, it’s okay. I’ll manage.” She hurried to the bathroom, her mind racing. Maybe she could wash out the stains and salvage the dress.

  ……

  Inside, Harper quickly undressed, standing by the sink in her nude underwear. The cold air nipped at her skin as she scrubbed at the fabric, but the coffee stain had left permanent marks. She sighed, slipping the partially damp outfit back on. She’d have to return home to change.

  But when she tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. She jiggled the handle, her confusion turning to panic after several failed attempts. “Hello? Is anyone there?” she called out, knocking on the door.

  Silence.

  Harper’s heart raced. “No, no, no,” she muttered under her breath, anxiety clawing at her throat. She wasn’t claustrophobic, but the idea of being trapped alone, missing the party, made her chest tighten. Plus, it was Friday—the start of the weekend. Would I be stuck here till Monday?

  ……

  On the other side, Jyn leaned against the wall, her chest heaving with quick, uneven breaths. The “Out of Order“ sign she’d just placed loomed in her peripheral vision, her stomach twisting with a sharp mix of guilt and triumph.

  She tiptoed to Harper’s desk, fingers trembling as she grabbed Harper’s phone, bag, and keys and stuffed them into her office drawer, the lock clicking shut with the twist of the key. Her jaw clenched, eyes darting to the bathroom as she pictured Kian’s attention fixed on her. Her fingers curled on the drawer’s edge, knuckles whitening.

  ……

  The JW Marriott, Washington, D.C., glittered with holiday cheer, its grand ballroom transformed into a winter wonderland. Twinkling lights, ribbons, and ornaments adorned towering Christmas trees, while laughter and clinking glasses filled the air.

  Kian was in a sharp navy Prada suit, a stark contrast to the festive atmosphere. He stood near the entrance, waiting. But his plus one was nowhere to be seen.

  Harper was late.

  He checked his phone for the umpteenth time. Still no response. He texted her again:

  [Where are you?]

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  [Everything okay?]

  Pocketing his phone, he looked up as Jyn, in her blood-red body-hugging Dior cocktail ensemble, appeared at his side, her lilt smooth as silk. “Waiting for someone?”

  “Yeah,” Kian hummed, brow furrowing. “Harper should’ve been here by now.”

  Jyn feigned surprise, her fist fluttering to her chest. “Oh! I saw her at the office earlier. She mentioned she wasn’t feeling well and was heading home.”

  Kian’s gut twisted. Something was wrong. He found a quiet spot and called Amos Eben, his assistant. “Check the office surveillance. Harper hasn’t responded to my texts or picked up my calls.”

  Twenty minutes later, Amos called back. “Sir, Ms. Lange was recorded entering the office at half-past five, but there’s no footage of her leaving.”

  Kian’s pulse spiked as he rushed back to Prime Dynamics. In the architecture department, he found a sign declaring the bathroom was out of order. His instincts screamed that this was no coincidence. He called maintenance, but the key was missing. Without hesitation, he broke the door open with a forceful kick.

  Inside, Harper was on the floor, her complexion pale. She lifted her head, relief washing over her. “Kian!”

  He knelt beside her, his features dark with a mix of anxiety and anger. “What happened?”

  Harper explained everything—the spilled coffee, the locked door. Kian pulled up the surveillance footage. And there it was, Jyn’s malevolence in action. He called Amos again and instructed, “Get the police over to the Marriott. Have Jyn arrested.”

  ……

  Kian took Harper to his apartment nearby, a sleek, modern 2-plus-study-bedder he hadn’t returned to since Sana’s ambush. “Shower and change into anything you want,” he said, pointing to his clothes in the walk-in closet. “I’ll Uber some grub for you.”

  “I’ve got to head over to the hotel to deal with that evil witch. I’ll come back immediately after. Are you going to be alright?” Kian asked gently.

  Harper nodded, still shaken. “Thank you, Kian.”

  ……

  Kian charged into the ballroom, the festive hum of conversation and laughter grating against his frayed nerves. He spotted four police officers just as they stepped past the gilded archway, momentarily drawing attention to themselves.

  Amos intercepted them swiftly. “Officers, I’m Amos Eben. I made the call regarding an employee who deliberately hurt and confined a colleague in a locked bathroom. Her name is Jyn Lennin.”

  A ripple of gasps and murmurs spread like wildfire.

  Jyn, who had been circling the VIP tables looking for Kian, stiffened. The moment Amos uttered her name, two TITAN security personnel flanked her.

  “What are you doing?!” she shrieked, jerking back instinctively. Finally spotting Kian in the crowd, she shouted, “President Shahi! I did no such thing! Did Harper accuse me? She’s framing me!”

  Kian stepped forward, his expression an arctic storm. “Did Amos say it was Harper?”

  Jyn’s protest died in her throat. Her pupils contracted, and her lips parted in a silent gulp.

  Kian continued, his glare steely. “We have you on surveillance. I saw everything.” His fists clenched. “How dare you?”

  The atmosphere tensed. Colleagues gawked, stunned.

  An officer stepped up, unfazed by the spectacle. “Ms. Lennin, you’re under arrest for intentional injury and unlawful confinement.” The click of handcuffs rang crisply against the charged stillness. “You have the right to remain si—”

  “No! This is a mistake!” Jyn thrashed in their grip. “Kian, please! I only—”

  Kian’s upper lip curled in disgust. “You only what? Sabotage Harper? Trap her in the bathroom while you paraded around here like a peacock?” His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “You’re nothing but a disgrace.”

  Jyn’s face crumbled. I’m done for!

  As the officers dragged her away, hushed murmurs swelled into an electrified buzz. It was an unscripted drama far juicier than any company gossip.

  Kian exhaled sharply, pinching the space between his eyes before stepping onto the stage. The microphone hummed to life as he addressed the crowd.

  “Our company stands on integrity, professionalism, and trust. Tonight, someone chose to betray those values. There is no room for such behavior at Prime Dynamics.” His gaze swept the audience, making sure the message hit home.

  Silence.

  He tilted his head and stepped back. “Enjoy the rest of your evening. Merry Christmas,” he said with finality before handing the mic to the emcee.

  Without another word, he turned on his heels and strode out, rushing back to Harper.

  ……

  Stepping back into the apartment, he found her curled up on the couch, wrapped in one of his sweaters. He settled beside her, his tone gentle, “That wicked witch has been arrested. She won’t bother you again.”

  Harper leaned into him, her gratitude palpable. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Kian held her close, his palm resting gently on her stomach.

  “Hiss,” Harper squirmed, the pain stinging.

  “What’s wrong?” Kian asked, concern knitting his brows.

  Harper pointed at her abdomen. “The coffee burned through to my tummy.”

  Kian’s gaze darkened. “Let me see.”

  Harper hesitated, feeling self-conscious in just his oversized sweater. But seeing the worry etched across his features, she reluctantly lifted the pullover to reveal the reddened, blistered skin.

  “Let’s go to the hospital!”

  “No! I can’t go like this. It’ll be fine!”

  Kian paced the living room, phone pressed tightly to his ear.

  “Hey, Sev,” he began, his timbre tense but controlled. “Harper scalded part of her belly with hot coffee. She refuses to go to the hospital. What should I do?”

  Seven’s reply was professional. “Run cool water over the burn for at least ten minutes; no ice, butter, or toothpaste. Go to the pharmacy and get burn ointment. Silver sulfadiazine or an aloe-based gel if they don’t carry it. If things don’t improve, send her to the ER."

  Kian exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Mmhmm... got it.”

  He ended the call and approached her. “I’m off to the pharmacy. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

  Harper nodded, though her fingers tightened around the edge of the sweater. “I’ll be fine.”

  Kian hesitated, his protective instincts warring with urgency. He knelt beside her, his fingers brushing against her wrist. “I’ll be quick.”

  Harper managed a small smile. “Thank you.”