The party was a blur of noise, laughter, and that unmistakable energy of people pretending to be someone they weren't. But none of it mattered anymore. The moment Tristan grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the crowd, the noise faded. His grip was firm, not too tight, but enough to remind me who held the power in this moment. His hand felt like a brand, a reminder of the past, of everything he had made me feel small and worthless. I should’ve fought back, should’ve pulled away, but a part of me relished the idea of what was to come. The fact that he didn’t even ask, didn’t warn me, and just dragged me into the empty room like he still had control over me made my stomach twist with a strange mix of anger and exhilaration.
He shoved the door closed behind us, his eyes flashing with something I couldn’t read. There was an edge to him now, something different from the arrogant man I used to know. I felt it, that pull of tension, the crackling energy between us. But I wasn’t going to be intimidated. Not now, not ever again.
"Sit," he barked, and for a moment, I almost considered disobeying. But I didn't. I walked over to the sofa and sank into it with a dramatic sigh, tossing a look over my shoulder at him. He stood there, his back rigid, staring at me as if he were trying to piece together the version of me that stood in front of him.
“Not a lot of people get dragged into private rooms like this,” I said, my voice dripping with mockery. “Is this your usual routine? Kidnap the guests you find too interesting?”
His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something, something darker, in his eyes. He said nothing, just stepped forward and grabbed the coat, tightening it around me until the soft fabric covered my form completely. It wasn’t out of decency; I could tell that. It was his way of asserting control. As though he still had the right to cover me up, to make me less visible. But I wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily.
I let out a laugh, louder than necessary. “Is this part of your master plan? To lock me in a room and play dress-up?”
Tristan’s jaw clenched as he pulled the knot tighter, avoiding my gaze for a moment. The frustration in his stance was palpable, but I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
I stretched my legs out casually, running my hand up and down my thigh, making sure to put on a show. There was no reason not to. If he wanted to look, let him. “How’s life these days, Tristan? Still the big boss in your little corporate world?” I asked, leaning back on the couch and crossing my legs slowly, letting the fabric of my skirt ride up just enough to draw his attention.
For a split second, I saw his gaze flicker downward, his eyes locked on my exposed skin. It was a moment of pure tension, a battle of wills, and I could feel the familiar, dangerous pull between us again.
“Bold of you to show up to a party you’re not even invited to,” he said, his voice low but sharp. “Don’t you think you’re pushing it a little too far?”
I let out a loud laugh, sitting up, pretending to be affronted. “I’m so sorry,” I said, raising a hand in mock surrender. “I didn’t realize this was your personal playground. I just thought I could enjoy the view for once.”
Tristan's face tightened, a flash of irritation cutting across his features. He stepped back slightly, his hands resting at his sides, as if trying to regain control of a situation he thought he had dominated. But I wasn’t going to let him. Not tonight.
“I’m a new employee, Tristan,” I said, standing up and walking toward him, my steps purposeful, controlled. “I don’t need your permission to attend a company event. I earned my place here.”
The way his brow furrowed, the disbelief in his eyes—it was almost satisfying. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off before he could.
“You can’t believe it, can you? That I walked in here like I owned the place,” I teased, taking a step closer. “Well, I do. And I’ll make sure you remember that.”
He stared at me, a little dumbfounded, a little angry, but still... not backing down. “You’re really something else,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “You waltz in here, making everyone look at you like you're some model employee when you’ve barely even started.”
I stopped in front of him and patted his shoulder with a playful smile. “Don’t worry, Tristan. I’ll be seeing you around. I’m sure tomorrow will be just as fun.” I winked at him, enjoying the way he visibly bristled at my playful gesture.
I turned toward the door, my heart racing, not from fear but from the thrill of the confrontation. There was something intoxicating about watching him struggle to maintain control, about making him question what he thought he knew about me.
Before I left, I threw one last line over my shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Tristan. Try not to miss me too much.”
I walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind me, but the sound of his footsteps chasing after me was still fresh in my mind. As I walked down the hall, I couldn’t help but feel a strange satisfaction.
***
The next day was a blur of nerves and determination as I stepped into the polished, glass-and-steel world of the creative agency. This wasn’t just a job. This was the job. The one I had fought for, clawed my way into, knowing full well that I was about to step into the lion’s den.
And, sure enough, the moment I walked into the office, I saw him.
I had prepared myself for this moment. After all, I had known he worked here. But seeing him again, in this professional setting, was different than what happened yesterday. He was no longer the teenage boy who made my life hell. No, now he was something else entirely controlled, polished, powerful. He was the senior partner of the agency, commanding, charismatic, and still... undeniably handsome.
I hate him. I wanted to feel nothing but disgust at the man who had emotionally scarred me, who had made me believe I wasn’t worth a damn. But as much as I tried to convince myself that the years had changed him, I couldn’t shake the truth. He was still so fucking attractive.
But I wasn’t about to let myself get distracted. Not now. Not ever.
I walked into the office, making sure to keep my head high, shoulders back, and my demeanor cool. I couldn’t afford to let him see the conflict brewing inside me. I had a job to do, and nothing, not him, not my lingering emotions was going to derail me. I was here for one reason: revenge.
As I settled into my desk, I caught sight of him again. He was standing by his office door, glancing over the files on his desk, his usual confident aura surrounding him. The temptation to approach him was there, to throw a few sarcastic words his way, but I resisted.
Instead, I forced myself to stay professional. He might be the one who had tormented me for years, but today, I wasn’t the victim. I was the woman in control of her own destiny. And Tristan? He was just another person to bring down.
I felt his gaze on me several times during the day. It wasn’t obvious, but I knew he was watching. I could feel the weight of his attention every time I passed by his office, every time I presented my work in meetings. It was subtle, but it was there. And when I finally walked past him in the hallway later that afternoon, he looked up, his expression a mixture of surprise and something I couldn’t quite place.
He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn’t wait for him. I didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t let myself pause for even a second. I just kept walking, my heart pounding in my chest as I forced myself not to turn around.
I wasn’t playing with fire. I was playing a game that I had already won. I had come here to make him feel everything he had made me feel. I had come here to watch him suffer. And this time, I wouldn’t let anything especially him get in the way.
I would stand there, plotting revenge, witness his karma, and walk away with the satisfaction of knowing I had won.