Lover's Plot, My Revenge

Paris had been everything I needed - inspiring, rejuvenating, and exactly the creative break my designs required. But nothing compared to the excitement of returning home early to surprise Caspian on his birthday. The vintage Patek Philippe watch nestled in my purse had cost a small fortune, but the moment I spotted it in that tiny Montmartre antique shop, I knew it was perfect for him.

The Seattle drizzle welcomed me as my cab pulled up to the McDonald Design headquarters. The sleek twelve-story building gleamed despite the gray weather, its modern glass facade reflecting the clouds above. My heart fluttered with anticipation. Three days early. He would never expect it.

"Welcome back, Ms. McDonald," the night security guard greeted me with surprise. "We weren't expecting you until Friday."

"That's the point, Carl," I winked, signing in. "It's Caspian's birthday tomorrow. I'm going to decorate his office tonight."

The elevator hummed as it carried me to the executive floor. In my arms, I balanced a bouquet of blue hydrangeas - Caspian's favorites - along with a small bag of decorations. The watch box pressed against my side in my coat pocket, a comforting weight.

The executive floor was dimly lit, most employees having left hours ago. Perfect. I'd have plenty of time to transform his office before heading home to prepare the rest of his surprise. I shifted the flowers in my arms, fumbling for my key card, when I heard it - laughter coming from my office.

My office? Not Caspian's?

I frowned, setting the flowers and decorations on a nearby desk. The door to my office was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway. More laughter, followed by murmurs too low to make out. I recognized Caspian's deep voice, but who was he with in my office at this hour?

Silently, I approached, years of yoga making my footsteps whisper-quiet against the carpeted floor. Through the narrow opening, I could see a slice of my office - the edge of my desk, the corner of the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased Seattle's skyline.

"You worry too much," a woman's voice purred. Bria. My assistant. "She's still in Paris for three more days."

"I know, but we need to be careful," Caspian replied, his voice husky in a way I'd only heard in our most intimate moments. "Everything's almost in place."

My hand froze on the door handle. Something told me not to announce my presence - not yet. I shifted slightly, angling to see more through the crack.

The sight punched the air from my lungs.

Bria sat perched on my desk - *my desk* - her skirt hiked up around her thighs, her legs wrapped around Caspian's waist as he stood between them. His hands were tangled in her hair, their lips locked in a passionate kiss that spoke of long familiarity. My desk. My boyfriend. My assistant.

I bit down hard on my lip to keep from making a sound, the metallic taste of