“Miles. What the actual fuck? I had that shit under control. I was going to get her out of there. You storming in the club and punching someone in the face in a jealous rage is going to get your ass on the fucking cover of some gossip column, you dumb shit. Not only that, but blow the plans you’ve had in place for over four fucking years. Oh, and let’s not forget that all the enemies you’ve made owning Osbourne Corp are likely going to know you have a thing for Mallory. Now that’s going to put her right in the fucking spotlight. You better hope no one got any pictures!” She yells the last part before ending the message.

All the blood rushes to my ears as I try to piece together what Paige said. Why was Paige’s number saved into Oz’s phone? How did I not even catch that? Oz owns Osbourne Corp? Paige knows Oz? Wait. Oz has had a plan for me for four years?

My hands shake, and I drop the phone. It hits the white tile floor with a crack, but I don’t care in the least. I have to get out of here. Now.

I want to run, but I have to be quiet. My heart is pounding in my ears. I need to sneak out. I head back to the bedroom and quickly find my dress and slide it on. I see my purse and shoes over by the dresser and I grab them. I look over at Oz, who’s now on his back, the sheet covering the lower half of his beautiful body. I want to scream at him and ask what the fuck is going on. I step forward, about to do it, my emotions getting the best of me. I feel the angry rage bubbling inside me, and as I get to the side of the bed, I look down at his bare chest.

My eyes roam over his left pec, right where his heart is. The name Mallory is tattooed there in cursive script.

I feel like someone punched me right in the stomach. My hand goes to my mouth to stop myself from making a sound. The tattoo doesn’t look new. I slowly and quietly back away from the bed until I reach the door. When I’m there, I silently open it and run down the hallway. When I reach the end, I spot the elevator. I hit the button in a panic and pray I make it out of here before he wakes. I don’t want answers from him. I want them from Paige.

When it dings, I get on, hitting the button to the lobby over and over until the doors close. It’s then I realize this elevator looks familiar, and it’s not because I’m remembering it from the night before.

“No,” I whisper to myself, clutching my purse and shoes to my chest. When the elevator hits the bottom floor, the doors open, and I see Chuck, the security guard who always smells like he drowns himself in Old Spice. I close my eyes and open them again. I pray I’m dreaming, but Chuck is still there with a giant smile on his face.

“Morning, Miss Mallory,” he says, giving me a little wave.

“Morning, Chuck.” I hit the button for the third floor and he gives me a strange look. Probably because I’m not getting off and I’m sure I look like I’m doing the walk of shame.

I dig in my purse for my keys as the doors close. When the elevator stops, I get off, going straight for my door and unlocking it.

Paige’s head pops up from the sofa, and I turn, locking the door behind me. I give her my back and take a few deep breaths. I don’t know what to say or where to start. I’m not even sure I want to hear her explanation. I’m terrified of the reality I’m about to face and what this will mean to the world I’ve built.

When I turn back around, Paige is standing up from the sofa.

“Jesus, Mal, you could have at least—”

She stops talking when she sees my face.

Then her eyes close likes she’s in pain, which only pisses me off more.

“He told you,” she whispers, opening her eyes.

I feel wetness hit my cheeks and a burning in my nose. I’m so angry I’m crying.

Paige comes around the sofa, but I can’t let her get close.

“Don’t come near me.” I drop my purse and shoes, holding my hands out in front of me. The words are ripped from my throat and make her stop in her tracks. I watch as her eyes water, and Paige does something she hardly ever does. Tears flow down her cheeks, matching my own, but I’m indifferent to them. This isn’t about her.

“How do you know Oz?” I shake my head. “Miles,” I correct myself.

God, I’m so fucking stupid. Call me Oz, he’d said. Osbourne Corp. How could I be so dumb?

She looks around the room like there might be an answer for her here. “Paige,” I snap, jolting her, and the words pour from her mouth.

“I’ve worked for Osbourne Corp since the moment I met you. I was assigned to guard you during your freshman year in college. I was hired to report back on what you were doing, keep you out of harm’s way and to make sure you had anything and everything you might need.”

“I don’t understand.” Why? I don’t get any of this. I swipe at the tears on my cheeks. Oz has had a guard on me for over four years? That doesn’t even make any sense. I only met him—Then it hits me. My scholarship to Yale was from Osbourne Corp, too. The man behind the curtain was a bit too real.

“Mal, please. I love you like a sister.”

“Don’t you say that. I was a job to you.” That much is clear in what she said. Everything we shared is a lie. All of it. Here I thought I was getting everything I ever wanted, but it was all fake.

“At first, yes, but listen to me. Over time it wasn’t like that. I love you, and that’s why I’m going to tell you the truth. Fuck Miles. It’s more complicated than you know.”

I shake my head. I can’t believe anything that comes out of her mouth. I don’t even know what’s real anymore. The one person who’s ever meant anything to me isn’t even real. I’m clearly shitty at reading people. I can’t see what’s right in front of my face. I feel like I can’t breathe.