Jessica sat very still after Michael left.The office was too neat, too polished, too quiet. Her reflection in the glass wall looked like a ghost—eyes wide and glassy, her body stiff in the chair as though moving might shatter her into pieces.On the desk sat the recorder. Useless now.Her hand hovered over it but never touched. What was the point? Michael had pressed delete right in front of her, smiling as though he’d cut the strings that held her together.Her mother-in-law’s voice was gone.That soft tone—gentle even in pain, forgiving even in her warnings—it was gone. Deleted with one press of his finger.Jessica bit down hard on the inside of her cheek until blood filled her mouth. She had to taste something real. If she didn’t, she would collapse, maybe scream, maybe beg for it back, and she refused to give Michael that victory.Her hand shook anyway. Suddenly, she grabbed the recorder, holding it up tight against her chest, clutching it as if holding on tight would bring the v

Jessica's hands continued to tremble.Long after her office building emptied for the evening, Jessica remained in her office. The city was brightly lit, and the bright glass wall stood strong and impervious to the bustling city. The recorder lay idle on the desk, recording no sounds. The little light blinked like a heartbeat in the dark.Michael’s voice bled through her headphones again:“Adrian Cole won’t be a problem. If he resurfaces, he dies.”She stopped the playback. Yanked the headphones off. Pressed her palms against her face until her skin stung.It wasn’t just her anymore. Michael wasn’t only after her reputation, her company, her life—he wanted Adrian erased.And the thought of it hit something deep, raw. Adrian didn’t even know she was carrying his child. He didn’t know Michael had dug his claws this far.For a long minute, Jessica just sat there, her chest heaving. Then she forced her shaking hands onto the keyboard.She typed a short message to her father’s old legal con