Chapter 2

The next morning, Dorian acted like nothing had happened. He had the housekeeper lay out a full breakfast, and there was a velvet box sitting next to my plate.

"I was out of line last night." He sat down across from me, forgiving in the way a man is forgiving when he thinks he's doing you a favor. "Go ahead, open it. I had someone win it for you at an auction in Paris. Call it an apology."

I opened the box. Inside was an emerald necklace.

I couldn't wear settings like that. Put one on and my skin would swell up and stay red for a week. He knew that, too. He was the one who had driven me to the allergy clinic.

Emerald green happened to be Elodie's favorite color.

"If she were really sorry about any of it, she wouldn't be living in your house," I said, pushing the box back across the table. My voice didn't move at all. "And she wouldn't be taking over the things you promised me."

Dorian's face darkened. "What are you starting now? Elodie hasn't been doing well lately. Her doctor said she shouldn't be on her own. You're the grown-up here. Can't you cut her some slack?"

I didn't answer. I just stood up and picked up my car keys. There was no point wasting energy on an argument that was going nowhere, and there was something else I needed to check.

Half an hour later, I parked outside the building I knew better than any other.

The sign out front had been changed. The old one was brass and it said FERRAND ATELIER. I'd saved up and paid for it myself, three years out of school. The new one said HALLOWAY DESIGN GROUP.

On the wall beside it, the small plate with my name on it was gone. All that was left were four screw holes. I stood there and counted them.

My keycard beeped at the turnstile and the light went red.

The receptionist was new. She stopped me, very politely. "Sorry, do you have an appointment?"

I told her I didn't. She handed me a pen and the visitor log, and I signed my own name in it.

Three weeks ago, that name had been on the front of the building.

I took the elevator to the top floor, opened the door to the office with the best view in the place, and stopped.

My drawings had been torn off the walls and dumped in the trash. Where my drafting table used to be there were easels now, and a pile of oil paints that made the whole room smell sharp. Someone had painted the walls pink.

Elodie was standing in the middle of it with a palette in her hand. The second she saw me, she set down her brush and arranged her face into something uneasy.

"Margot... please don't be angry. It was Dor's idea. He said I needed somewhere with good light to find inspiration, so he told me to move in."

She bit her lip. Her eyes told a different story. They were bright and pleased with themselves, and they were daring me to say something about it.

Footsteps came down the hall. Dorian walked in, put himself between us, and looked at me like he was guarding her.

"Margot, I told her she could use it. You haven't drawn anything in a long time. It's a waste to leave an office like this sitting empty."

Then he added, in a tone that left no room for discussion, "One more thing. Astra Tower breaks ground next month. I've decided Elodie's name goes on it as lead designer. She needs a chance to make a name for herself in this business."

Astra Tower.

Two years of my life. A hundred versions. That was what it had taken to turn an idea into a building that would actually stand up. And now he wanted to cross my name off it and put on a woman who couldn't work out a load-bearing wall.

"You're sure?" I looked him in the eye.

"It's only a credit. You're still the consultant behind it." He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. "Don't make a thing out of it, Margot."

Three years ago I merged my firm into his group. The night I signed, he came up behind me and put his arms around me. "The name is just paperwork," he said. "This firm will always be yours."

I believed him then.

Now I was looking at the man I had loved for five years, and I didn't recognize him.

"Fine." I nodded. The corner of my mouth went up, but there was nothing warm in it. "She can have the office. She can have the project too."

Dorian stared at me. He clearly hadn't expected me to give in that easily.

I turned around and walked out without looking back once.

In the car, I took out my phone and sent an email to the group's legal department.

Here is how it works in this country. No building goes up unless an architect has signed the drawings and taken responsibility for them. From the first version of Astra Tower to the hundredth, that signature had always been mine.

The email was one line.

Effective immediately, I am withdrawing my signature from all drawings for Astra Tower.

Sent.

He wanted to take my name off that building.

So I took the building off my name.