The Art of Corporate Espionage

The orange sunset bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the forty-third floor, casting long shadows across Elena's desk. She pressed her palm against the cool glass, watching the city below transform into a grid of amber lights. Three years at this firm, and she still marveled at how high they stood above the chaos they created.

"You're going to miss it," David said, materializing in her doorway with that effortless charm that had never quite hidden his ruthlessness. He held a baseball from the company softball tournament—she'd watched him catch the final out that sealed their division's victory. The same division he'd dismantled two months later for efficiency.

Elena turned, her hand dropping from the window. "Miss what? The corporate intrigue? The way we pretend not to know we're all just—"

"Spies," he finished, leaning against her doorframe. "Don't be dramatic. It's just competitive intelligence."

"It's not just anything." She nodded toward the cardboard box on her desk. "I found the surveillance logs. You've been monitoring my communications since I transferred in."

David's expression didn't shift, but something flickered behind his eyes. Fear? Pride? She couldn't tell anymore.

"What did you expect?" he said softly. "You were too good. Too fast. Nobody rises that quickly without something to hide."

Elena laughed bitterly, remembering her golden retriever, Max, waiting at home. The only innocent thing in her life—unless you counted the way she'd adopted him after finding him tied to a dumpster during her lunch break. But David didn't know about Max. Nobody here knew anything real about her.

"I didn't have anything to hide," she said, "until you made me feel like I should."

He straightened, the baseball still in his hand. "I taught you survival, Elena. In this world, that's what passes for love."

She picked up her box and walked past him, his cologne lingering like a warning. In the elevator, she caught her reflection in the polished steel doors—tired eyes, something like hope returning. Somewhere across the city, Max was waiting. And tonight, for the first time in three years, she would be the one who knew everything, and he would know nothing at all except that she was finally, truly home.