= Chris POV =

  By the time I reached the building, Sarah had already vanished up the lift.

  What the hell does she think she’s going to fight a robber with? Her boots?

  The thought fueled my steps as I pushed through the lobby, stabbing the elevator button repeatedly like it owed me money. The seconds ticked by painfully, each one feeding the tension simmering in my chest.

  Finally, the elevator doors creaked open, and I stepped inside. My foot tapped against the floor impatiently as the lift climbed, one excruciating floor at a time.

  When the doors slid open on the eighth floor, the first thing I heard was shouting—loud, sharp, and punctuated by the thwack of something hard meeting flesh.

  What the—

  I didn’t wait.

  I dumped the canned coffee and bolted down the dimly lit corridor, my heart hammering.

  The numbers on the doors blurred as I ran—8:09, 8:10… 8:11… 8:12!

  I skidded to a stop outside Sarah’s supposed apartment.

  Except it wasn’t Sarah in the middle of the chaos.

  It was someone else—a woman, dark-haired and furious, swinging her handbag like a medieval weapon as she smacked the hell out of a guy crouching defensively on the floor.

  “I TOLD YOU HOW MANY TIMES?!” she screeched, punctuating each word with another blow. “DO NOT SUBLET MY APARTMENT, YOU LYING, THIEVING BASTARD!”

  The guy yelped, hands flying up to shield his head. “Baby, I’m sorry! She said she only needed it for six months! She just moved in!”

  Six months?!

  I was too stunned to react—until I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

  Sarah.

  She was hiding behind a pilr near the door, peeking out like a guilty kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  “Sarah!” I hissed.

  Her wide eyes snapped to mine, and she immediately pressed a finger to her lips, signaling for me to stay quiet.

  Too te.

  The handbag-wielding woman froze mid-swing. Her head snapped around, sharp and sudden, like a predator locking onto prey.

  Her eyes nded on me first—then drifted to Sarah.

  And in that moment, I knew.

  I knew by the way her expression twisted, by the way her nostrils fred and her lips curled back in a sneer.

  “You’re Sarah?” she demanded, her voice dripping with venom. “The bitch my husband cheated with so he could rent my property for dirt cheap?!”

  “What?!” I blurted.

  Sarah whimpered from behind the pilr, but I wasn’t about to let this situation spiral any further.

  I stepped between them and squared my shoulders, pnting my feet firmly as I raised my hands.

  “No,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I’m Sarah’s girlfriend.”

  The woman blinked.

  I reached behind me, grabbed Sarah by the arm, and pulled her out into the open.

  “She got evicted,” I said quickly, spinning my web of half-truths on the spot. “She didn’t have anywhere to stay, so she called him—” I jabbed a finger at the groveling man on the floor—“her ex. From over…” I gnced at Sarah, who silently mouthed ‘three.’

  “Three years ago,” I finished.

  Sarah kept her head down, clutching my arm like her life depended on it.

  “She had no idea she was subletting,” I continued. “You know how it is with young, inexperienced girls.”

  The woman’s gre softened—just a fraction.

  Her eyes flickered between me and Sarah before her shoulders sagged, and suddenly, the anger drained from her face.

  “Oh,” she said, her voice losing its edge. “Lesbians.”

  I blinked.

  She gestured vaguely between us. “Of course. God, I should’ve guessed.”

  Then, to my utter disbelief, she sighed and rolled her eyes.

  “You know what? I’ve been with this doofus for a year now, and I swear, I’m this close to dumping him for a woman myself.”

  “Baby—” the guy started, but one sharp look shut him up.

  “You,” she snapped, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at him. “Get back to your mother’s pce. I don’t want to see so much as a hair on your head near this building again.”

  The man scrambled to his feet and took off down the hall without looking back.

  “Sorry, baby!” he called out as he fled.

  The woman shook her head and turned back to me.

  “I’ve got Sarah’s documents,” she said briskly. “So she’s lucky I’m a nice person.”

  I stayed quiet, unsure if I agreed with that assessment.

  “You’ve got four hours to get her stuff out,” she continued. “And I’ll wire back whatever money this idiot stole from her.”

  I nodded. “Thank you so much. I’ll call the movers now.”

  She handed me a business card and I exchanged hers with mine.

  “Marget Winston,” I read aloud. “Head of Marketing at Winston Dynamics?”

  Her lips twitched in a smirk. “And you’re a chef at the Royal Martins Hotel. Impressive.”

  Sarah brightened. “Chris really takes care of me.”

  She wrapped her arm around mine, clinging tightly.

  I resisted the urge to groan.

  “Well,” Marget said, flipping her hair. “Good for you, Sarah. You really elevated after Michael. Might take a page out of your book myself.”

  Sarah just nodded meekly.

  “Thanks again, Ms. Winston,” I said, stepping in before she could linger. “I’ll text you once the apartment’s cleared.”

  “Perfect.”

  Marget slipped her handbag over her shoulder.

  “I’ll leave the door open for you two,” she said breezily. “I’m heading to a pub nearby for a drink. Don’t leave anything behind.”

  And just like that, she turned and strolled down the hall as if she hadn’t just beaten the crap out of someone minutes earlier.