Chapter 3 — Return to Glassspire

Mia Harper

The revolving glass doors of Glassspire Tower gleamed under the morning sun, their pristine surface mirroring the bustling street outside. Mia Harper paused at the threshold, her fingers tightening around the strap of her leather handbag. It had been two weeks since the wedding-that-wasn’t, and though the bruises to her ego weren’t visible, they might as well have been tattooed across her forehead. A soft breeze carried the faint sounds of traffic and the hum of the city, but it did little to steady the metallic taste of anxiety on her tongue. She took a deep breath, straightened her blazer, and stepped inside.

The familiar scent of designer coffee and fresh-cut flowers hit her immediately, a once-comforting fragrance that now felt cloying. The lobby’s polished marble floors reflected the cold, modern elegance of the space, but today, the building felt less like the cathedral of success she once revered and more like a mausoleum of judgment. Every clack of her heels echoed louder than it should have, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes followed her every step.

“Morning, Miss Harper,” chirped the receptionist, her tone a touch too brisk, her smile slightly strained. The words hung in the air, almost hesitant, as though she wasn’t sure how to address Mia anymore. Mia forced a polite nod in return, her senses hyper-aware of the quick glances exchanged between coworkers in the background. Whispers. She was sure of it. The kind of hushed conversations that halted the moment she turned a corner.

Keep walking, she told herself. Confidence is perception.

Passing a cluster of desks, Mia caught the faintest snippet of a whispered conversation: “...did you hear about Calloway?” The speaker fell silent as her gaze brushed over them. One pretended to type. Another shuffled papers. Heat crept up Mia’s neck, but she kept her expression neutral, her steps steady.

The elevator ride to the thirty-fourth floor was mercifully empty. As the doors slid shut, Mia caught her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her chestnut-brown hair was styled into its usual immaculate waves, her hazel eyes framed by just the right amount of eyeliner. But the tightness in her jaw betrayed her. She exhaled sharply and smoothed her pencil skirt, as if the act could iron out the tension in her shoulders.

The swipe of her Glassspire Keycard brought a faint beep, and the elevator began its ascent. The card felt heavier in her hand than it should have, its sleek silver surface a reminder of her place in this world—a place she had fought to earn but now felt precarious. For a fleeting moment, she remembered when Andrew had gifted her the card during their early days together, joking that she was his “key to the future.” The thought left a bitter taste.

When the doors opened, the energy on her floor was unmistakable. Phones rang incessantly, keyboards clattered, and the faint hum of conversation buzzed like static. The open-plan office was a hive of activity, but the usual camaraderie felt muted. Several pairs of eyes flicked toward her before darting away.

She made a beeline for her glass-walled office, ignoring the pit forming in her stomach. Sliding the door shut behind her, she dropped her bag onto the desk and slumped into her chair. The panoramic view of the city stretched out before her, a sea of steel and glass. It should’ve been exhilarating. Instead, it felt like a gilded cage, its sharp edges reflecting the cracks she was trying to ignore.

Her reprieve was short-lived. A sharp knock on the glass door jolted her. She turned to see Carol, her boss, standing there with her arms crossed, her tailored pantsuit as sharp as her expression.

“Mia, can we talk?” Carol’s voice was clipped.

Mia nodded, gesturing for her to come in. Carol entered and closed the door behind her, the sound of the latch clicking unnervingly loud. She didn’t sit, instead opting to stand with her hands on her hips.

“You’ve seen the headlines.” It wasn’t a question.

Mia’s stomach sank. Of course, she’d seen them. Andrew Calloway’s name had been splashed across every business blog and financial news outlet for the past week. Rumors of financial instability at his company had surfaced, accompanied by whispers of mismanagement and questionable practices. And her name—her carefully cultivated, spotless reputation—was being dragged into the narrative by association.

“I’m aware,” Mia replied, keeping her tone measured.

Carol sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t just about you, Mia. The agency’s reputation is on the line here. Our clients are asking questions. They want to know if we’re still aligned with Calloway Holdings.”

Mia’s grip tightened on the armrest of her chair. “The rumors are just that—rumors,” she said, even as doubt gnawed at her insides. “Andrew’s decisions have nothing to do with me or this agency.”

Carol’s gaze hardened. “Perception, Mia, is everything in this business. You might not be directly involved, but you were publicly tied to him. That makes this our problem.”

The words stung, but Mia nodded. She couldn’t argue with the truth of it.

Carol leaned against the desk, her tone softening slightly. “Look, I know this isn’t fair. You’ve worked hard to get where you are, and I respect that. But we need to consider damage control. I need you to distance yourself from Andrew—publicly. A statement, social media, whatever it takes to make it clear you’re not connected to whatever mess he’s gotten himself into.”

Mia’s mouth went dry. Publicly distance herself. As if the humiliation of being left at the altar wasn’t enough, now she had to parade her separation from Andrew for the world to see?

“I’ll take care of it,” she said finally, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her.

Carol nodded, satisfied. “Good. Oh, and one more thing—there’s a meeting with the Vertigo account team in an hour. I need you sharp for it. No distractions.”

“Understood.”

Carol straightened, her professional mask firmly in place. “I’m counting on you, Mia. Don’t let this derail you.”

As the door closed behind her, Mia let out a shaky breath.

Don’t let this derail you.

The words echoed in her mind as she stared at the city skyline. But wasn’t she already derailed? The life she’d built, the image she’d crafted—it was all starting to feel like a house of cards, teetering on the edge of collapse.

She reached for her phone and opened her social media app, her thumb hovering over the “New Post” button. A statement, Carol had said. Something to sever her ties with Andrew.

Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard. “I had no idea my ex-fiancé was a fraud”? That would only invite more scrutiny. “We’re no longer together, and I wish him the best”? Too polished, too detached. She typed and deleted, over and over, the words never feeling right.

Instead, she closed the app and set the phone down. She needed time to think, to strategize. And, if she was honest with herself, to process the growing sense of betrayal that she hadn’t yet allowed herself to fully feel.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a notification on her computer. An email from Claire Donovan, her maid of honor and supposed confidante.

*Hey, just checking in. Let me know if you need anything. Thinking of you.*

Mia stared at the words, her chest tightening. Claire had been supportive since the wedding, but something about her tone felt... off. Too polished. Too rehearsed. She frowned, her mind flickering to the way Claire had avoided eye contact the last time they spoke. And earlier—had she seen Claire chatting with someone near the lobby? Or had she imagined it? A part of her wanted to confront Claire, to press her for answers. But another part—the part that still clung to the hope of loyalty—held her back.

Before she could overthink it further, her assistant poked her head into the office. “Mia? The Vertigo team is ready in the conference room.”

“Thanks, Kelly. I’ll be there in a minute.”

As the door closed again, Mia squared her shoulders and stood. Whatever doubts and insecurities churned within her, she couldn’t afford to let them show. Not here. Not now.

Her gaze flicked to the panoramic view once more, the skyline gleaming with the same relentless ambition she’d once admired. In this world, perception was everything.

And Mia Harper wasn’t ready to let anyone see her cracks.