Chapter 3Lethal Vows And Buttercream Lies

A memory unspooled in my mind. A torrential downpour last spring. He had promised to pick me up from work but never showed.

I had walked to the subway, soaked to the bone. When I finally dragged myself into our lobby, shivering violently, I ran into him. He hadn't picked me up because he was busy driving Mia home so she wouldn't have to take a cab in the rain.

I was on my period that day. The freezing rain had triggered debilitating cramps. I had begged him to run down to the pharmacy on the corner for ibuprofen.

He had rolled his eyes, calling me dramatic. "It's downstairs, Tina. The walk won't kill you. I’m not your errand boy. I’m just grabbing a jacket, I have to head right back out."

He had slammed the door in my face. I found out later he was rushing out to catch a movie premiere with Mia.

Good, I thought now. I'm glad you're leaving. I don't want to look at your face anyway.

Fighting through the dull ache in my pelvis, I boiled a pot of ginger tea. I skimped on the honey but dumped in enough raw ginger to strip the enamel off his teeth. I hoped it burned that manipulative little bitch’s throat.

The moment the front door clicked shut behind him, I pulled out a suitcase. I started packing my essentials, arranging for a courier to ship them directly to my company’s temporary corporate housing. Once I landed in London, my coworkers would forward the rest.

By 11 AM, I had purged the apartment of my existence. Anything I couldn't pack, I tossed into the building's incinerator in two agonizing trips.

My phone buzzed. It was Carter.

He ordered me to whip up a massive lunch. He was having "the boys" over.

A cold fury settled in my chest. "Carter, you know my leg is injured. I can barely walk. And even if I were fine, look at the time. The fridge is empty. What exactly do you expect me to serve them?"

Silence hung on the line. Then, a heavy, condescending sigh. "Is there literally anything I can count on you for?"

He hung up.

I was zipping up my suitcase, ready to walk out forever, when he texted me a pin to an upscale hotel downtown.

“Bring the two bottles of vintage Bordeaux from my wine fridge. Pick up some high-end snacks. Leave it all at the front desk.”

I let out a long, shuddering breath. The hotel was on the way to my corporate housing. If I didn't bring the wine, he would blow up my phone all day, and I just wanted a clean getaway.

Assuming his friends had brought their kids, I stopped at a boutique grocer and bought a massive bag of imported snacks.

When I reached the hotel lobby, another text lit up my screen:

“Don't leave it at the desk. Bring it up to the suite.”

When I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the private dining room, the first thing I saw was Carter peeling a shrimp and feeding it directly into Mia’s mouth.

The table, packed exclusively with young women, erupted into obnoxious squeals.

"Oh my god, Carter is literally the sweetest! Peeling shrimp for you, Mia? We're so jealous!"

Behind Mia sat a mountain of designer shopping bags, jewelry boxes, and a massive, tiered birthday cake.

It was Mia’s birthday party. The guests were all her friends and former interns.

When Carter saw me standing there, a flicker of guilt crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by a dark scowl. "What are you doing inside? I told you to leave it at the desk."

Before I could answer, Mia gasped, pressing a manicured hand to her chest. "Oh, Carter, don't be mad at her! It's my fault. I texted her that I was craving snacks. You're not mad at me, are you?"

She blinked up at him, her eyes wide, glassy, and completely devoid of guilt.

The ice in Carter's expression melted instantly. He reached out, affectionately tapping her nose. "You little glutton."

As he turned away, Mia’s gaze flicked to me. A smug, triumphant smirk played on her lips.

Carter waved a hand at me like I was the help. "You dropped it off. You can leave now."

I turned on my heel, but Mia’s sugary voice called out.

"Wait, Tina!" She bounded over to me like a sprightly little bird, holding a porcelain plate with a massive slice of cake. "It's my birthday! Have a bite of cake and wish me a happy birthday before you go."

I didn't have the patience for her theater. "I'm busy. I'm leaving."

But she grabbed my elbow, her voice amplifying into a performative pout. "Are you refusing my cake, Tina? Or do you just not want to wish me well?"

She turned back to the table. "Please, Tina, just make my birthday wish come true."

Carter stood up, puffing his chest out to defend her honor. "Tina, just eat the damn cake. Don't ruin her day."

I stared at him, the chill in my veins turning to absolute ice. "Carter. You know I am severely allergic to buttercream."

He rolled his eyes. "A single bite isn't going to kill you. You're always saying you're allergic, but no one's ever seen you have a reaction. Who knows if you're even telling the truth."

Mia leaned in, her voice dripping with honey. "He's right, Tina. This is a custom cake Carter ordered specifically for me. You couldn't buy this anywhere."

She didn't break eye contact. Her expression was a taunt. She was daring me to fight back.

Leaning closer, she whispered so only I could hear: "If we make a scene right now... who do you think he'll side with?"