I leaned over. The preview text on the lock screen burned itself into my retinas.
“I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow. Don’t forget the perfume I like.”
Signed by a certain Carolina.
The new secretary at the corporate office. I had met her once at the holiday party. She had perfectly glossed lips and an elegant, flowing name… like a luxury shampoo. Carolina.
I took a deep, shuddering breath in the kitchen, pulling myself back to the present. The espresso machine hissed, signaling it was done. I uncapped the small bottle. The clear liquid looked so innocent. I tipped it over the dark, steaming coffee. Three heavy drops. Four. Five. A generous swirl of liquid karma, blending seamlessly into the dark roast. I stirred it with a silver spoon, the metal clinking softly against the ceramic.
“And that coffee?”
His voice startled me. Julian stood in the kitchen doorway, adjusting his expensive leather belt with a renewed, youthful vigor—more enthusiasm, in fact, than he had shown when we went to our anniversary dinner three months ago.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, but my face remained an unreadable mask. I picked up the cup by its handle, the porcelain warm against my icy fingers. I walked toward him, holding the brew like an offering.
I brought the cup closer to him.
“A little gift,” I said, smiling with a chilling calmness I didn’t even know I possessed.
He reached out and took it. He brought the rim to his lips, his brow furrowing for a fraction of a second as the steam hit his face. My breath hitched in my throat. Had I put too much? Could he smell the bitter taint of consequence beneath the roasted beans? He tilted the cup, and I waited for the world to shatter.
### Chapter 2: The Synergy of Consequence
He drank.
