"Well, if it isn't the devil herself," I sigh, looking up from my spreadsheet. "To what do I owe this honor?"

I hope she can hear the sarcasm dripping from my voice because I'm really not amused. She's the last person I wanted to see today.

This is becoming almost predictable ... and it's not the kind of predictability that I want. Who does Wanda think she is, continually barging into my office unannounced like this? If this continues, I'll need to increase security at the office.

She has both hands on her hips as she walks in, her heels stabbing the plush carpet with every step. It's almost painful to watch … and the idea crosses my mind that those heels could be used as a weapon if she ever decided to fly off the handle. Those psychopathic eyes or hers convince me I'm right, too.

She's eyeing me like a predator eyes its prey.

"I want a progress report, and I want it now," she hisses, slamming one hand down on my desk. I watch as a few stray papers fall off my desk and flutter to the ground. Important papers. Now I'm really annoyed.

She seems to be morphing into more of a beast each time I see her, even her nails appear longer and pointier. Is she doing that on purpose?

"So, I don't get a hello? No, 'how's your day', Derek? It hasn't even been 24 hours, and yet, here you are. That wasn't a part of the plan."

I'm trying to play it casual.

"I've had enough of your games," she quickly snaps. "I want an update, and I want it now."

"You know what, Wanda?" I say. "You're a Grade-A bitch, and you can fuck off. I suggest you leave—now."

The shock on her face is visible. She wasn't expecting those words to tumble from my mouth, but I've had enough. Every person has a breaking point, and she's just pushed me past mine. My patience is up.

"You're playing dangerously … very dangerously. I thought you were smarter than that," she smiles, exposing her perfectly square, and white teeth, but I can tell it's taking considerable effort for her to keep her cool. I see a murderous rage flash in her eyes. I know her all too well. She's unpredictable when mad.

"I'm saying what I should've said a long time ago," I reply. "You aren't going to dictate this situation any longer. You don't have the kind of power over me that you think you do. Those days are over."

Now I'm standing up and getting ready to point her to the door. I have both hands balled into fist and shoved deep into my pockets. My posture is rigid, every muscle in my body taut.

"Wrong," she says with a shrill laugh. "You have no idea what you've just done. You're going to regret this. Remember, your entire career—this whole empire of wealth—is at stake. And it's not just your life—it's the lives of everyone who works with you in the firm. Have you stopped for a moment to think about that, or are you really that selfish and self-centered? And do you really think I don't know what's going on?"

'What are you talking about?" I ask. My mind is racing. Where is she going with this? Could she possibly know about … no, that's impossible. Or is it?

She continues, "I have eyes all over this city. Every nook and cranny. No matter where you are, I'm watching."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.

"It means that I know … about you and Eliza. Did you really think that I didn't? How stupid do you think I am? I didn't need to give you 24 hours to take action because I already know what you're up to."

"What exactly are you implying?" I ask, still trying to gauge the severity of what she's saying. My mind is spinning like a fucking top, and I'm not sure how to interpret what she's telling me now.

Wanda laughs, "Oh, come on. It's no secret that you're fucking Eliza."

She casually strolls to the windows and looks out over the city before turning back to me, as if to drill home the fact that she lords over everything that happens in Manhattan. "So, tell me," she says, "How does she stack up?"

"As compared to what?" I ask. Two can play this game.

"No need to play coy," she purrs, walking over to me. As she approaches my desk, she slowly bends over to pick up the sheets of paper that have fallen to the ground just moments earlier. Her actions are smooth and calculated, and as she bends over, she deliberately gives me a perfect view of her breasts, straight down her low cut blouse.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say.

She continues, "Oh come on, don't you remember our all-night marathons? Does she get you as hard as I did?"

"That was another fucking lifetime ago," I reply, trying to end the conversation. The last thing I want to think about is our failed marriage … I don't know what I was thinking ever marrying her in the first place. Sharing a bed with her is like cuddling a viper.

"I have a hard time believing Eliza could ever stack up," she smiles. "It's an unfair comparison really."

"Don't fucking kid yourself, Wanda," I say. "Eliza and Carter are the best things to have ever happened to me. The three of us are amazing together."

I watch as Wanda's eyes widen.

There's a look of shock that spreads across her face, and in that moment, I realize she was lying. She never knew about Eliza and I, and she certainly never knew about Carter. She was phishing me for information.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She laid a trap and I fucking fell right into it.

I can't backpedal out of this one. I can't un-say what's been said.

She shakes her head. "Unbelievable," Wanda says, just above a whisper.

I'm basically going all in now.

"Believe it. We're happy. All three of us."

She eyes me up and down, her gaze shooting daggers at me.

"Watch yourself, Derek. This isn't over yet."