The fluorescent lights of the Vance Innovations basement lab buzzed with a sickly, relentless hum. It was a stark, depressing contrast to the midnight elegance of Damian’s penthouse, but Clara welcomed the sterile environment. It made it easier to disassociate. It made it easier to play the part.

S

*I see you, Clara.*

The words pulsed on the black screen in stark, glowing white text. Clara’s heart slammed against her ribs, the sudden spike of adrenaline turning her hands ice-cold. For three agonizing seconds, she couldn't breathe. Floor 40. Julian’s private executive suite.

She didn't hesit

Clara pressed a trembling hand to her bleeding jaw, her mind racing at a million miles an hour. She stayed slumped against the boardroom table, playing the terrified victim while her brain calculated the damage.

*What does she know?* Clara thought frantically. *Does she know about Damian? Does she