Chapter 93

~ Octavia ~

I began re-creating the files the second I left the restroom. While the rest of the office emptied out for lunch, I stayed tethered to my desk, my eyes stinging from the glare of the monitor. Even after the official work hours ended and the cleaning crew began their rounds, I remained. I ignored a string of frantic texts from my mother asking about Nola; I’d dropped my cat off with her earlier so she could take her to the vet, but I was too buried in data to reply.

The work followed me home. I only paused long enough to fix a dry turkey grilled cheese and take a lukewarm shower before diving back in. By the time the sun began to peek over the Manhattan skyline the next morning, I was already back at my desk, beating even Steph, the receptionist, to the office. The night security guards gave me a wary nod as I blew past them.

The soft, rhythmic hum of my laptop was the only sound in the deserted open-plan office. I leaned back, my neck cracking painfully, and stared at the final slide of the presentation. It was done.

A slow, shaky breath escaped my lips as the tension finally began to drain from my shoulders. My fingers hovered over the trackpad, and I clicked Save—once, twice, then a third time for good measure. That had been my fatal mistake yesterday; I hadn’t backed up the copy data digitally before Bella "accidentally" drenched it in caffeine.

I stretched my arms overhead, a massive yawn catching me off guard. I hadn’t slept a single wink. I looked at the screen again: the layout was clean, the linguistics analysis was precise, and the strategy was undeniable. It was perfect.

"Let’s see you try to destroy this one, Bella," I whispered to the empty room.

I headed to the printer, watching the crisp pages slide out. Taking the fresh folder, I marched to Miranda’s office and knocked. She was already there, her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose as she scanned a tablet.

"Good morning, Mrs. Lawson. I’ve finished the reconstruction," I said, straightening my blazer.

"Brilliant." She looked up, a rare, genuine smile touching her lips. "I knew I could count on you, Octavia."

She gestured for the file. I handed it over and held my breath as her eyes scanned every detail with the kind of cold precision that made her the most feared woman in the firm. Seconds stretched into an eternity. Finally, she nodded. "It’s solid. It meets the standard—and then some."

Relief washed over me, nearly making my knees buckle. Just then, her desk phone rang. She answered, listened for ten seconds, and hung up. Her smile vanished.

"That was the board. They’re ready now."

"Now?" I blinked, checking my watch. "I thought the presentation wasn’t for another two hours."

"Plans have changed. The Chairman has an early flight to London. The meeting starts in minutes," she said, rising and smoothing her skirt. "I’m heading down to the conference room now. Don’t be late."

"I just need to grab my laptop and my notes from my desk," I said, already turning.

"Just don’t keep us waiting, Miss Herman," she warned, her presence exiting the room as swiftly as a gust of wind.

I hurried to my cubicle, heart hammering against my ribs. I shoved my laptop, phone, and a notepad into my purse. The hallway was beginning to buzz with the usual morning chaos — phones trilling, the urgent low hum of gossip. It was the energy of a battlefield before the first shot. This wasn’t just a presentation; it was my chance to prove to the board—and to snakes like Bella—that I was unbreakable.

"Good luck, Octavia!" Tina called out from across the room.

"Thank you Tina!" I shouted back, throwing a determined smile over my shoulder as I reached the elevator bank.

I stabbed the ’Down’ button. Once. Twice. Five times. My eyes flicked to the digital display. The elevator was stuck on the penthouse level, moving with agonizing slowness. I checked my watch again. I was already three minutes behind.

"No, no, no," I breathed. I couldn’t walk in late. Not today.

I glanced at the heavy steel door of the stairwell. It’s only three floors, I thought. I’ll be faster on my feet.

I pushed through the door. The air in the stairwell was noticeably cooler, smelling of concrete and industrial cleaner. The heavy door clicked shut behind me, the echo bouncing off the high walls.

For a split second, a chill raced down my spine—a sudden, inexplicable sense of dread. I shook it off. I was just tired.

I started down the stairs, my heels clicking sharply. I wasn’t quite running, but I was moving fast, my hand gripping the cold metal railing. One flight down. Two. I was nearing the landing for the conference floor when I heard it—the faint, hurried scuff of a shoe behind me. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

I started to turn, but I was too late.

A violent, dual-handed shove slammed into the center of my back. The force was immense, calculated, and cruel. I didn’t even have time to scream. My breath caught in my throat as my body lurched forward into empty air.

My foot missed the next step, and the world tilted into a sickening spiral.

My purse flew from my shoulder, the contents spilling as I tumbled. My shoulder hit the concrete first with a sickening thud, then my side.

The impact to my head was the last thing I felt clearly. The overhead lights smeared into long, white streaks of fire as I rolled down the remaining steps.

I came to a stop at the bottom of the flight, sprawled awkwardly against the heavy exit door. The air had been completely knocked out of my lungs. My vision was a blurred mess of grey and red. I could feel something warm and sticky trickling from my nose, pooling on the cold floor.

The silence of the stairwell was deafening, broken only by my own ragged, uneven gasps for air. Somewhere above me, I thought I heard a door click shut—the soft, final sound of someone walking away.

My eyelids felt like lead.

I tried to move my hand, to reach for my phone, but my body refused to respond.

A dark shadow began to creep in from the edges of my vision. One final, bitter thought flickered through the haze of pain: Someone pushed me.

Then, the world went quiet. The darkness took me.