Chapter 8-The Edge of The Reckoning

*Aryanna*

I couldn’t tell Jim.

I couldn’t confess that the edge of ruination was, in fact, the very spell of my undoing. The idea was almost a force of nature, an unshakable truth lurking in the underbelly of our interactions. I had spent too long believing that I prevailed over every peril to reach my objective. But in the end, the harsh reality of action and consequence had a way of leveling even the strongest foundations, leaving nothing but nerve-wracking uncertainty and a grim sense of irony.

I knew that Lisa had orchestrated this entire trade-off. It was not out of necessity or reason but as an act of unadulterated spite. She was using my job—the very thing I strove for as an instrument of my own downfall, and she leveraged it—almost casually, as though it was her right. Every fiber of my being screamed that this was personal. I could see it in her eyes, the quiet satisfaction lurking beneath a polite façade, each word calculated to cut deeper than the last. This wasn’t about business, efficiency, or any of the hollow words she used to frame her decisions. This was about power, revenge, and settling some unseen score.

I tried to hold myself together and remain composed, but every word she uttered felt like a sharpened edge pressing against my resolve, threatening to shatter me completely. I wanted to believe I had a choice or that there was another way that would allow me to walk away, but the stakes were too high. She just didn’t know how high, and I couldn’t let that shake me or veer me off my course. I had come way too far.

I moved toward the door to exit Jim’s office, my stomach sinking like a stone. Every ounce of confidence I’d once had drained away. His ultimatum reverberated in my head, sharp and final like a judge’s gavel pounding out my sentence. The reality was clear. It was either bend to Lisa’s demands or be cut loose—no sugarcoating, no illusion of choice—just cold, unyielding authority. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff. If I took one wrong move, the ground beneath me would give way. It was all I could do to keep my face steady, but inside, everything felt like it was unraveling.

“All right,” I heard my words, “I will do my best to satisfy Miss Gordon.”

***

Lisa sashayed down the polished marble floors of the boutique, a subtle scent of rare peony and oud trailing her like an invisible crown. Every step was a declaration of her privilege, each heel clicking like a signature on a fat inheritance check. She wore oversized designer shades, even though the store’s lighting was perfect, and her lips twisted in a hint of a smirk as she surveyed the latest collections with a critical, aristocratic eye. Nothing seemed to impress her. Everything was dismissed with a casual flick of her manicured fingers, that perfect red of her nails reminiscent of old money.

I struggled to keep up behind her, forced to bear the weight of her whims. My arms sagged under a dozen shopping bags, each one heavier than the last. I had to do my best to keep my face carefully neutral. My pride was swallowed long ago in exchange for the prospect of collaboration and ultimately, Darren. She glanced back at me only to sneer as if she savored the sight of me struggling visibly. I had no break. I had no help. It was clear from the moment she strutted into Jim’s office that her arrival would herald hell for me.

When Lisa paused in front of a display, inspecting a handbag that cost more than my monthly retainer, she waved a hand without looking at me.

“The bill,” she said curtly.

I stepped forward with her purse in my hands, holding it out with all the dignity I had left, which felt about as thin as the fraying leather at its corners. She eyed it with disdain and then pinched it between her fingers, yanking it from my grip as if I'd soiled it just by holding it. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. She didn’t even say “Thank you.” Instead, she turned to the cashier, flashing a bright smile as if I weren’t even there.

Moments later, a new bag arrived in her hand, courtesy of the eager sales assistant. Instead of passing it to me, Lisa dropped it on the polished floor with a careless smirk, her eyes glinting with something cruel and expectant. I paused, meeting her gaze in a fleeting moment of defiance, my fingers tightening on the handles of the other bags straining my arms. Her brow arched slightly like a queen daring a servant to misstep.

When I leaned down to grab the bag, her foot shot out, deliberately catching the back of my ankle. I stumbled, barely catching myself before my balance gave way, but it was too late. Every bag slung across my arms swung free, scattering in a graceless heap across the floor. The sounds of clattering accessories and rustling paper filled the room. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I scrambled, collecting items with shaking hands and forcing them back into the bags.

She looked down at me with a glacial smirk, laughter slipping past her lips, sharp and cold as crystal. “Careful there,” she mocked, her voice a syrupy blend of amusement and malice. I wanted to throw something, anything, at her, but I forced my hands to stay steady, my expression blank.

“That will teach you to not want what you’re not worth having.”

My hands froze mid-motion, fingers hovering above the scattered items on the floor. Her words slithered into my ears. I felt my pulse stutter under the weight of her accusation. I tried to focus on stuffing the idle items back into the discarded bags, but each glance upward showed her face twisted in a spiteful, almost venomous delight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I murmured, my voice tight, barely controlled, as I forced my trembling hands to keep working, shoving things back into bags. My mind scrambled for a way out of this conversation, for any way to deflect her razor-sharp attention.

Lisa’s laugh cut through the boutique, brittle and empty. “Don’t act coy with me. I know exactly why a desperate, lowly lawyer would play dress-up as a waiter at a banquet she had no business attending, just to slip upstairs to the king suite.” She leaned in, her tone a low, mocking murmur. “You wanted Darren Miller. You wanted to sneak into my territory and see if you could seduce him somehow.” Her eyes glittered with a venomous superiority, narrowing on me as if her gaze alone could pin me to the floor. “But let’s be real—you’re delusional if you think he’d ever look twice at someone like you.”

The heat of anger surged through me as I reached for the last bag, gripping the handles like they were my last link to dignity.

“Darren Miller?” I forced out, rising to my feet, struggling to keep the desperation from my voice. “That’s what this is about? You think I was trying to get to him?” I gave a short, incredulous laugh, trying to sound unfazed. “You’re wrong.”

Her eyes narrowed, skepticism thick in her expression as she stepped forward, her presence a calculated pressure. “You’re a lawyer,” she sneered, voice dripping with derision. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at lying?”

“I’m not–” I began, my throat tight.

“Save it,” she snapped, cutting me off, a cruel smile stretching across her face. “No one goes to such desperate lengths for ‘just anyone.’” She laughed, a cold, hollow sound that sent a chill crawling over my skin. “The whole ploy you pulled, sneaking in, pulling the fire alarm—all of it, just for the chance to be alone with him. Don’t act like you’re above it. You have feelings for him, don’t you?”

I had no desire to discuss Darren with Lisa. She wouldn’t understand. Even if she did, she wouldn’t believe the truth about him—the truth that Darren was a person whose heart seemed forged from ice, distant and unyielding.

In truth, I pitied her. Lisa had no understanding of the cold indifference that made up Darren’s very essence. Loving someone as merciless and unfeeling as Darren was to invite ruin—a slow unraveling that would only hollow anyone out, leaving one with nothing but the faint, bitter taste of misplaced devotion. I understood her obsession. She mistook his detachment for mystery, his cruelty for strength, unaware that beneath it all lay nothing but an emptiness that could only consume.

So I took the high road, kept my mouth shut, and bore it all in silence. My compliance only seemed to stoke Lisa’s fury. I could almost see the frustration coil around her as she dialed her phone. She was calling in her reinforcements. As she murmured into the phone, I tuned out their conversation, thinking it was none of my business. I assumed I’d already weathered her worst. That was my second mistake.

Minutes later, Lisa’s friends arrived, a cluster of perfectly curated appearances: sharp heels, designer labels, and smug grins. They carried trays of iced lattes and steaming espressos. For a fleeting moment, I thought they’d brought drinks to share, perhaps even to cool off from the thrill of tormenting me.

“Nice to see you, Lisa,” One girl said, “So glad you asked us out.”

She looked at me, showing disdain. “Just didn't expect you wouldn't be alone.”

Lisa took her arm, smiling and saying, “Come on. The bags are heavy, and we need someone to serve us. I paid her boss one million dollars, and he promised I could command her as I wanted. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”

“Of course,” the girl said. “You can do whatever you want as long as you pay enough money.”

As they stepped forward, I realized their intent too late. A cascade of iced coffee spilled down my front, bitter and cold as it soaked through my clothes. Hot espresso splashed against my skin, and laughter followed, a chorus of gleeful cruelty. I felt the stares of onlookers and the prickling humiliation. Every fiber of my pride urged me to drop the bags and walk away.

“Look at you,” the girl giggled. “You look really poor. But don’t worry. I’m pretty sure what Lisa pays your boss is enough to pay for that.”

I stood there, drenched in mockery, and forced myself to endure. This was only a part of what I’d have to bear if I wanted to see this through. No matter how they tried to humiliate me, I would endure. I still had to find my way back to Darren.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I can buy another one myself.”

Lisa’s smile wavered and disappeared. She narrowed her eyes at me.

“I don’t like the way you talk to me,” she said. “I don’t see respect in your eyes.”

Every time I saw Lisa, I couldn’t help but think of myself five years ago as arrogant as Lisa appeared right now.

“You don’t get respect through asking. ” I stared at her, also telling myself five years ago, “You get it through how you treat others.”

***

The following day, I found myself in Jim’s office, summoned on account of Lisa’s visit to the firm. She had come with a tantalizing offer, one that dangled the prospect of a lucrative partnership with her father’s corporation. Apparently, she took what I said the day before as a kind of offense, so her new terms were clear and cruelly precise. She demanded my dismissal, citing an invented slight, and claimed she couldn’t bear to work with someone who had so gravely "offended" her. The irony left me reeling. She had been the one engineering my every hardship, turning even the smallest moments into a stage for her spite. Yet there she was, accusing me of some imagined transgression, using it as a weapon.

I wanted to scream.

Jim’s gaze was hard and calculating, his mind clearly fixed on one goal: securing an alliance with Miller Corporation. The truth held no weight there. He offered no defense, no fair consideration.

“I’m sorry, Miss Kyle. I’m afraid I have to…”

He was prepared to deliver the words that would utterly shatter my world. Tears burned behind my eyes as I shook my head beseechingly, but my silent plea fell prey to larger ambitions. Jim’s lips tore open, but they sealed back shut when we heard someone walking inside the office.

“Who is Miss Kyle?”

I whirled around to see Nathan standing behind me.