My presence lingers in the office, a shadow that waits for the thief to arrive. I leave the door unlocked, a tactical oversight, a trap set with my own hand. The bait is tantalizing. The bait is a lie. I imagine Derek’s pulse quickening at the sight of it, imagine his hands shaking as he touches what isn’t his. What will never be his. I come back after a restless lunch, come back to the carefully placed snare. A paper out of line, my chair nudged from its position. I read his betrayal in the smallest of details.
The knowledge fills me with a dark, satisfying pleasure. He can’t resist, can’t help himself, can’t stop himself from falling into the trap I’ve laid. He is predictable, and I use it, use him, use him like he uses me, like he uses me but better, but more, but smarter.
The client
