Chapt Midnight Oil
3 stayed late at Nyx Collective.
Midnight late
Everyone else had bailed hours ago, but i was still at my desk, hunned over my laptop
Technically, I was working.
Realistically? I was hiding.
From Ashton.
From the terrifying possibility that he might suggest we consummate our brand–new, totally normal, definitely not weird marriage with a roll in the hay.
Because I was scared I’d say yes without blinking.
Or worse—what if I was the one to bring it up?
Sure, we were legally husband and wife now.
But the only time we’d actually slept together, I’d been blackout drunk and didn’t even know his name.
Still, from the fragments I did remember, he’d been… insane. Stupidly good.
The kind of good that ruins p**n for you.
Like, knew what to do with his lips and hands and tongue and you–know–what good.
And okay, yes, my libido wanted an encore.
A sober one.
But the rest of me was terrified I’d come on too strong, act like some unhinged nympho, and scare him off.
I mean, I did rip his shirt that night.
That’s not exactly first–date energy.
He’d been very professional about this whole contract marriage thing.
So I needed to be professional, too.
Which is why I was still at Nyx, doodling nonsense on my sketchpad, pretending I cared about bezel settings and chain lengths when really, I just didn’t want to go home.
Eliza Black was coming in a few days to pick her lead designer.
No pressure or anything.
My brain had been flatlining all week, but the pendant necklace had given me some inspiration which I should jot down before it vanished.
I’d shut off all the lights except one, because mood lighting helped
Close to one o’clock, I’d just stretched and cracked my spine in five places when I heard the door ease open.
I turned and cocked an eyebrow.
What was she doing here?
Violet Lin had left hours earlier.
1/3
hapte 45 Midnight
+25 BONUS
Apparently, she was just as sumprised to see me as I was to see her
Oh wow, working late?‘ she said, milling up short when she saw me stand up.
I gave her a side–eye, sat back down, clicked my mouse, and shut down the deck I’d been working on.
She didn’t need to see anything.
She saw my move and scoffed. ‘Please. Like I care what you’re working on. We both know you’re just killing yourself over that Eliza Black pitch. I already finished mine. Not that I’d waste my time looking at yours. I will get the project, by the way. You should just quit now. Save yourself the heartbreak. Nothing worse an crying over a dead dream.‘
I turned my chair slowly to face her. Leaned back.
‘It I get it, great. If I don’t, whatever. It’s one project. I don’t treat like it’s the last golden ticket out of my tragic little life. That level of desperation kinda reeks. If anyone’s crying when Eliza picks someone else, it’s going to be you, sweetheart‘
Violet’s jaw clenched so hard I half–expected her teeth to crack.
She stormed closer, heels stabbing the floor like she was trying to kill it.
‘I’m not desperate,‘ she hissed. ‘Even if I don’t get this, I’ve got backup. Unlike you, I’ve got options. I could quit tomorrow and still be fine. Hell, I could buy Nyx Collective if I wanted and fire your smug face just for fun.‘
‘Cool. So why are you here at midnight talking to me instead of doing rich–girl Pilates or whatever?‘
Her nostrils flared.
I smiled. .
She didn’t.
‘Your folks made some cash riding the post–pandemic crypto wave Big whoop. Doesn’t change the fact they’re still new money. If your family had the power you’re flexing, why didn’t they even get an invite to the Laurents‘ gala, hmm? And while we’re at it, you still haven’t told me how you got in. What was it–snuck in under the dessert cart?‘
Her face dropped. ‘You-!‘
‘Yes?‘
She glared like she was seconds from launching her Louboutins at me, then hissed, ‘You’ll regret this,‘ and stomped out,
I watched her go, head tilted.
A minute after she left, I grabbed my bag and followed.
Something about her showing up after hours, all flustered, didn’t sit right with me.
Violet Lin didn’t do unannounced pop–ins without a reason, and her face when she saw me earlier was straight–up guilty.
I slipped downstairs, low heels silent on the marble.
She’d already reached the lobby, deep in conversation with one of the security guards.
I ducked behind the stairwell, the one blind spot in the CCTV coverage, discovered thanks to three months of staying late and
pure paranoia.
She handed the guy a card.
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