Phoenix Saves the Girl

The Richardson Group's offices were eerily quiet at midnight. I'd been away for two weeks, recovering at Winston's estate, but I still felt the building's familiar pulse—the hum of security systems, the faint glow of emergency lights. What I didn't expect was Phoenix's badge still working.

"Mr. Cruz," the night security guard's voice crackled over the intercom. "Building's closed."

I froze in the shadows of the executive floor, my heart hammering against my ribs. I'd come early to collect some files before facing the inevitable whispers and stares. But now...

"Please, man," Phoenix's voice was slick with charm. "I left some crucial presentation materials on my computer. Mrs. Hunt needs them first thing tomorrow."

The guard hesitated. "I'll have to call Mrs. Hunt for authorization."

"No need!" Phoenix laughed too loudly. "She's still recovering, remember? Don't bother her. I'll just grab what I need and be out in five minutes."

I pressed myself against the wall, breath caught in my throat. The elevator dinged, and Phoenix stepped out, looking disheveled but determined. He wasn't alone.

"Keep watch," he murmured to Natalia, who nodded and positioned herself by the stairwell door.

My fingers curled into fists as I watched Phoenix approach my office. He still had his keycard—another oversight on my part. The door slid open with a soft click.

"Five minutes," the guard's voice echoed through the hallway.

"Ten," Natalia called back, her voice honey-sweet. "He's very thorough."

I should have stepped forward then. Should have confronted them immediately. But something kept me frozen as Natalia slipped into my office behind Phoenix.

Through the glass walls, I watched her move with practiced precision to my computer terminal. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, and I realized with sickening clarity what was happening.

They were stealing from me.

---

Three days later, I returned to the office officially. My stitches were hidden beneath a sleek fedora, but nothing could disguise the cold determination in my eyes.

"Mrs. Hunt!" My assistant jumped to her feet. "We weren't expecting you until tomorrow."

"I've been expected elsewhere too long," I replied, striding past her into my office.

The room felt violated. Though our IT team had already detected and contained the breach, I could still sense Natalia's presence—her expensive perfume lingering in the air.

I'd barely settled behind my desk when the door burst open. Phoenix strode in, his usual confidence masking what I now recognized as deep insecurity.

"Eleanor," he began, as though nothing had happened. "We need to talk about—"

"Sit down," I said, my voice glacial.

He blinked, clearly expecting the usual warm reception. "I was going to apologize for—"

"Sit. Down." Each word was a shard of ice.

He lowered himself into the chair across from me, confusion replacing his arrogance. "Look, about the gala—"

I slid a manila envelope across the polished surface of my desk. "Your termination letter."

His face drained of color. "What?"

"Effective immediately." I kept my voice steady, though my hands trembled slightly beneath the desk. "You're fired."

"You can't do that," he said, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

"I can and I have." I pushed another document forward. "This is a restraining order. You are to stay at least fifty feet away from me, my home, and my office."

Phoenix's eyes darted between the papers. "Eleanor, please—"

"The apartment key." I extended my hand. "The car keys. Your company credit card."

"You're... you're taking everything?" His voice cracked.

"You were never him," I said quietly, the truth of it settling into my bones. "You were just a mistake."

---

Natalia's apartment was a shrine to modern minimalism—all clean lines and cold surfaces. Phoenix paced the living room like a caged animal, his movements frantic and uncontrolled.

"She owns everything," he muttered, running his hands through his hair. "The apartment, the car... even my face."

Natalia watched him with calculated sympathy. "Your face?"

"She loves this." He pointed to the small beauty mark beneath his eye—the feature that had first made me notice him, the one that had reminded me so painfully of Martin.

"Don't be ridiculous," Natalia soothed, though her eyes gleamed with interest.

"It's true!" Phoenix's voice rose. "She's obsessed with it. With him. With the way I look."

Natalia moved closer, her fingers trailing down his arm. "Then maybe it's time to stop being what she wants."

"What do you mean?"

"If you really want to be your own man..." She paused, her lips curving into a smile that never reached her eyes. "Maybe it's time to change the one thing she loves most about you."

Phoenix's hand moved unconsciously to the beauty mark. "You think...?"

"I think," Natalia said carefully, "that if you want freedom, you need to erase the thing that binds you to her."

In the silence that followed, Phoenix made his decision—and sealed his fate.