Chapter 3

Fergus's explanation for all of it went like this:

"Belinda works incredibly hard, and she's talented. I can't hold it against her just because she's young and fresh out of school, can I?"

"I only transferred her to be my secretary for work purposes. As for the lunch thing... she's just so dedicated that she keeps working through lunch to help me process documents, so she started bringing her meal to my office. That's all."

"There's nothing between us. But hey, if it bothers you—if you're jealous—just say the word and I'll get rid of her tomorrow."

I wasn't the type to meddle with the company over gossip and gut feelings.

I pulled Belinda's file myself, sat in on a few meetings she ran. The girl was meticulous, capable, knew exactly when to press and when to ease off. I was impressed enough to pay off every cent of her student loans, push through a raise, and promote her all the way to chief secretary. I even warned the staff to knock off the rumor mill—stop making up stories about a young woman who was just trying to build a career.

I thought I was investing in someone with real potential.

Turns out I was just feeding the wolf inside her.

It started with the door code. She kept saying she needed constant access to pick up documents for Fergus, and before I knew it, she'd changed the code to our home to her own birthday.

When I confronted her, she apologized with tears brimming in her eyes, looking wounded and small.

That same night, she took a drunk Fergus and didn't come back. Her phone was off. Every call went to voicemail.

I searched for a full day and night. I was dialing the police when Fergus finally called—casual, unhurried—to say he was already home. I nearly tripped over myself getting back, and there she was: standing in my kitchen, in my pajamas, flipping something on my stove for Fergus's breakfast.

She saw me and her eyes went red.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Fox. I know I'm hopeless—I just couldn't keep your door code straight. Mr. Henson was so drunk, and I couldn't get the door open, so I had no choice but to take him to a hotel for the night. But don't worry, nothing happened between us."

Anger surged through me and I opened my mouth to speak.

Fergus cut in first, his face turning to stone. He pointed at the front door.

"Six digits. You can't remember six digits. And you don't know how to turn on a phone. If the chief secretary job is too complicated for you, don't bother showing up tomorrow."

Belinda burst into tears on the spot.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Henson, I really didn't mean it! Please don't fire me! My mother's surgery costs two hundred thousand, and she's counting on my salary to cover it!"

"You fire me and my whole family goes under!"

Fergus looked at her, ice cold.

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to my wife. She's pregnant, and you're the one putting her through this. If she doesn't forgive you today, you can cry yourself blind for all I care—you're still gone."

Belinda dropped to her knees in front of me and started slapping herself across the face, one cheek and then the other.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Fox. I was just afraid that knocking on the door in the middle of the night would wake you and hurt the baby."

"I'm clumsy with words, I have no sense for these things, and I messed up! Hit me! Yell at me! Just please don't fire me!"

I looked at her like that, and in the end I said nothing. I just told her to leave.

Fergus pulled me into his arms afterward, holding on like he'd never let go.

"Babe, how are you this kind? She made you upset and I was ready to fire her on the spot."

"But you said you'd forgive her, so I'll follow your lead. Don't worry though—I'm going to bury her in work, keep her late every single night. Call it punishment."

Back then, I still melted into the warmth of it. Never once did I think to question whether any of it was real.

But Belinda never stopped. She kept crossing lines, kept pushing closer, each time a little bolder than the last.