Chapter 52
To my surprise, the following two weeks at the bank passed in relative quiet. I continued compiling my reports, fully aware that the ax was still falling on more employees. Yet, oddly enough, the air of hostility I’d once felt seemed to have dissipated. Instead, an unsettling silence took its place. People no longer glared or whispered behind my back; they avoided me entirely. It was as though I carried some contagious curse, one they didn’t want to risk catching. Perhaps they believed my evaluations were influenced by personal bias. They couldn’t have been more wrong.
First, I hardly knew anyone in the office beyond their names in my files. Second, I didn’t care to. It may sound cold, but my job was to deal in facts—numbers, data, and properly formatted reports—not emotions or friendships. If discrepancies caused financial losses, there were consequences. Simple as that.
Of course, my work wasn’t just about rooting out failures. I also highlighted those who performed exceptionally, recommending raises or promotions where deserved. Ironically, I doubted any of them ever attributed their successes to my reports. Good news seldom bore a face, whereas bad news always needed a scapegoat.
By the final days of that fortnight, I felt a bittersweet satisfaction as I added more vampire names to my termination list. This wasn’t about some species rivalry—I despised the arrogance of those who insisted vampires were inherently superior. Yet, here I was, finding more vampires underperforming than humans. Oddly, it gave me hope that my actions might not alienate me entirely from the human side of this tangled world.
Work consumed most of my day, leaving little room for reflection. But during brief moments of pause—while sipping coffee or grabbing a quick bite—Hadrian would inevitably intrude on my thoughts. He had left for a meeting with the Vampire King, and I hadn’t seen him since that morning in my bedroom. I could still feel the ghost of his touch, the warmth of his lips grazing my neck. His teasing lingered in my mind like a melody I couldn’t shake.
I wanted to believe he felt the same pull, but Hadrian was infuriatingly unreadable. Despite what I’d learned about how intoxicating my blood must be to a vampire, he seemed completely unaffected—or so he claimed. The truth gnawed at me. Did he crave me, even a little? Because I craved him.
It was maddening, this desire that swelled each time I saw him, butterflies erupting in my stomach like a relentless storm. Every cliché about vampires seducing their prey mocked me now. I wasn’t supposed to be the one yearning for the bite. Yet, when I looked into Hadrian’s eyes, I felt a strange, thrilling masochism. My inability to control this longing infuriated me.
Being alone in my room only worsened things. A phantom of his scent seemed to linger, stirring me into an aroused frenzy every time my mind wandered to him. It terrified me how quickly I was losing the emotional armor I’d spent years building. I tried to drown myself in work, convincing myself that I was still in control.
That evening, I found my excuse to stay late. I claimed I needed to finish reviewing contracts from 2019. The hours slipped by unnoticed, and the world outside had long surrendered to the night. My focus on the screen broke only when the soft chime of an incoming email drew my attention.
The message was from Peregrine, relaying a request from the CFO. Apparently, Lucian wanted me to revisit some contracts from 2015, citing concerns about issues I’d flagged. Annoyance prickled at me. I was meticulous in my work, especially when livelihoods were on the line. The insinuation of error stung my pride, and I resolved to prove him wrong.
Without hesitation, I grabbed my ID and headed for the archives. The elevator ride to the fourth floor felt longer than usual, but my determination burned bright. Swiping my pass, I entered the archive room and strode straight to the shelves.
“Found it,” I muttered, spotting the box I needed on a high shelf.
Balancing on my toes in heels, I managed to pull it down without a ladder. I barely had time to open the lid when the sound of the door shutting behind me froze me in place. My instincts flared.
“Wind?” I whispered to myself, though I didn’t believe it.
The faintest sound of footsteps reached my ears. Not one set. Three. They moved deliberately, almost imperceptibly, like predators stalking prey. Training with Oberon had sharpened my senses, but nothing could still the frantic hammering of my heart.
I scanned the dimly lit room, my eyes darting between the tall shelves. A part of me wanted to call out, to feign ignorance and disarm the tension. But the oppressive air suffocating the room warned against it.
Then I saw him—a pale man with brown hair and unsettling, golden snake-like eyes. He emerged from behind a shelf, a wicked grin curling his lips.
“Well, hello, beautiful,” he drawled, his voice laced with mockery.
I stepped back instinctively, only to notice two others blocking my exit. One was blonde, the other dark-haired, his cap pulled low over his forehead. All three wore suits, their grins dripping with malice.
“Who are you?” I demanded, masking my fear with defiance.
“Does it matter?” the brown-haired man retorted, his smirk widening.
“You’re not authorized to be here,” I said firmly, inching toward the door.
The blonde sneered. “And where do you think you’re going, sweetheart? We’ve been waiting for you.”
“For me?” I asked, feigning ignorance as I glanced around for an escape route.
“You’re the one who cost us our jobs,” he snarled. “Now we’re here to take something from you.”
“It wasn’t personal,” I snapped, trying to keep my voice steady. “I only reported the facts.”
“Bullshit!” the man in the cap roared, stepping closer.
My back hit a shelf as I tried to sidestep them. Their laughter echoed ominously, and a chill ran down my spine. My gaze flicked to the ceiling, searching for the comforting blink of security cameras. The red lights were dead.
“Damn it,” I whispered, the realization sinking in. This wasn’t chance. It was a trap. My own hubris had led me here, and now I was about to pay the price.