I knew this had all been my idea, but there was something about it that felt too easy. I didn’t for a second think Lee was conning us. He might have been a criminal, but he was an honourable one. Yes, there was such a thing as honour amongst thieves. Besides, I’d seen enough dodgy characters during my years of bar work to recognise a good though slightly tarnished egg when I saw one. Still, something just didn’t sit right with me, and I hated feeling like that. Like there were invisible loose ends we weren’t quite grasping.

King returned to the living room and dropped down onto the couch beside me. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to. I could sense his relief was short-lived, just like mine had been. He’d been putting on a brave face for his mum, trying to give her some semblance of peace, even if it might have been misleading.

He stretched his body out on the couch and pulled me to his chest so that my head was resting on his sternum. The silence continued as neither one of us spoke. I pressed my ear to his skin, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was reassuring, amid the uncertainty, to have his strong body so alive next to mine. To know one beat would be followed by the next.

His hand started to stroke my hair, my bare arm, my shoulder blades. I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch.

“What you said today at the office, did you mean it?” King murmured, his voice almost hesitant.

His question gave me pause as I lifted his my head to meet his eyes. “What I said?”

“About us falling for each other,” King whispered. “Do you believe it?”

“I don’t need to believe it,” I replied fervently before taking his hand and placing it over my chest. “I feel it.”

King sucked in a breath, eyes flickering back and forth between mine. His voice was barely audible when he said, “I feel it, too, Alexis.”

My heart stuttered, and a smile spread its way across my mouth. “Well, then, Oliver, that’s all we need to know.”

And then I kissed him.

***

Several weeks passed by. King began taking me on dates. The rest of the time we were both rushed off our feet, only stealing brief moments together. Some nights King came to stay at my place, and then others I went to his. I preferred going to his. It meant I didn’t have to worry about scarring my best friend for life with our sex noises.

What was most surprising was the phone calls I’d started to get with job offers. Not for secretarial work, but for modelling. The shots from Bradley’s shoot had been published in a popular fashion magazine, and I’d caught the attention of several agencies. I didn’t want to give up working for King, but still, I thought it was a bit of good luck. I had a couple of shoots booked for the coming weeks, and, depending on how profitable it became, maybe I could quit my job as his assistant.

After all, I wanted to be his girlfriend far more than I wanted to be his assistant, and there was only so much sneaking around I could handle. Plus, Gillian was right on the cusp of discovering the truth. The other day she’d walked in on me standing by King’s desk as he ran his hand up the outside of my thigh. He’d explained it away by saying he’d spotted a spider on my skirt.

And yes, it might have been the most obvious lie ever told. Amen.

It was a mildly sunny morning when I made my way to the newsagents to collect King’s papers. I thought Arnold, the shopkeeper who I was now on first-name terms with, was acting a bit weird, but I didn’t pay it too much attention. I picked up the papers and said my goodbyes before returning to the office. It was only when I reached the entrance to Johnson-Pearse that I noticed the swarms of journalists outside. They hadn’t been there when I’d first arrived, but I’d gotten in earlier than usual. There must have been some sort of story going on. Perhaps the economy was taking another nosedive.

As I struggled my way past the crowd, I heard lots of chatter but couldn’t make out enough details. In the end I tugged a youngish guy holding a camera aside and asked him what the deal was.

“Do you work here?” he asked excitedly.

“Yeah, but I’m only an assistant. What’s with all the journos?”

His excitement seemed to deflate when he heard I wasn’t anybody important. “One of the directors at the bank has been accused of illegal insider trading. It’s all over the papers,” he said, and nodded to the stack I held under my arm. My heart almost stopped beating, and I walked past him in a daze. As soon as I’d scanned my ID and made it by reception, I found a bench and set the papers down. There on the front page of the very first one was all I needed to know.

It showed a picture of King, which looked to be taken at some function a couple of months ago. He wore a suit and an aloof expression while the photo was being captured. The slant to his mouth made him seem cruel and uncaring, which I thought was probably the intention. The article read:

Oliver King, head managing director at Johnson-Pearse Bank, has been accused of insider trading after an investigation into the financial institution’s public and private accounts. The claims were brought forward by an ex-employee of the bank, who wishes to remain anonymous. This individual is said to have left their job after discovering the unethical practices of the managing director. Mr King is the son of classical pianist Elaine King, who left the public eye over a decade ago after a long and successful career on the international stage….

And on the article went. I felt like I was going to throw up as I comprehended what was happening. I was on autopilot when I left the newspapers sitting there and hurried for the elevator. There were a number of other people inside, but I barely noticed them as I hit the button for my floor. Moments later, the door pinged open and I was out, almost running as I made my way to King’s office. I saw Gillian first. She sat at her desk, her expression as pale as a ghost, and I knew she’d heard the news.

“Where is he?” I asked, breathless.

Her worried eyes came to mine before she nodded to the closed door of King’s office. It was a rare moment that Gillian was lost for words, and this was one of them. Grasping the handle I turned the knob and stepped inside. King stood by the window, his hands buried in his hair as he stared out at the view. On his desk was an empty bottle of whiskey, his favourite tipple.

“Oliver,” I whispered, and he turned, eyes bloodshot and face contorted in misery.

“Leave me,” he said, his voice pained.

I took three steps. “No. We both know this story is bullshit. It’s Bruce. I’m sure of it. He’s orchestrated all of this, planted the evidence.”

“Of course it’s fucking Bruce!” King cried, startling me. “How naïve were we to think he’d back off? Men like Bruce don’t back off — it’s not how they’re drawn. By backing off, he might as well be admitting he’s a dead man. It’s weakness, you see. I don’t know why I ever allowed myself to believe otherwise.”

All at once, the guilt hit me. Blackmailing Bruce had been my idea. Therefore, what was happening right now was my fault. Tears filled my eyes as the strength fled my body.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

King’s eyes came to mine, so blue, so beautiful, so sad. He shook his head, seeming to read my thoughts from my expression alone. “No, Alexis. Don’t even think it. All of this was going to happen eventually. Bruce has always despised me for not being like him, for making it my life’s mission to never be like him. He was always going to try to destroy me. It was only a matter of time.”

“But King, I….”

In a few short strides he was in front of me, his fingers going to my lips to stop me from continuing. “I said no, my darling. No. You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Just by breathing, you make all this a million times more bearable. I’ve lost the respect of my peers, of everyone I know. I’ve lost.” He paused, choking up, his posture projecting his misery. His hands fisted, his jaw clenched tight. “I’ve lost everything I worked years to build. The pride I held, the respect I commanded from others, it’s all gone. I’m no longer the best at what I do, no longer surpassing anybody, because everybody thinks I got where I am by cheating.”