In too deep
992 Words
Beth Lancaster prided herself on being smart—ambitious, even. She had played the role of Bruce Clark’s perfect confidante, the woman behind the man, whispering in his ear, feeding his ego, and in return, securing her place by his side. The money, the power, the promise of something more—it had all seemed worth it.
But now, as she sat alone in her car, gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white, she felt something creeping into her chest. Doubt.
The numbers weren’t adding up. Bruce had been restless, snappier than usual. He had spent the past two days pacing his office, making cryptic phone calls, and barking orders that made no sense. Even worse, the documents—the ones he had sworn were locked tight, secured beyond Emilia’s reach—were gone.
Beth had checked. Twice.
And that wasn’t the only problem. Emilia had been looking at her differently. Not directly, not confrontationally, but with something colder than her usual indifference. Like she already knew. Like she was just waiting.
A shiver ran down Beth’s spine.
She reached for her phone and pulled up Bruce’s number, but hesitated before calling. He hated being questioned, and the last thing she needed was for him to lose control. No, she needed to be careful. If Emilia was onto them, if she had any proof—
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
She needed an exit plan.
Beth swallowed hard, forcing herself to think. Bruce was arrogant enough to believe he could outmaneuver Emilia, but Beth? She knew better. If Emilia had something, it was only a matter of time before she used it.
The thought made her stomach twist. Because if Bruce went down… so would she.
She glanced at the rearview mirror, paranoia creeping in as she scanned the street. Had someone followed her?
No. She was being ridiculous. Right?
Taking a deep breath, Beth unlocked her phone and did the one thing she swore she’d never do.
She pulled up Emilia Clark’s number.
Her fingers hovered over the screen. If she made this call, there was no going back.
But if she didn’t—
Her thumb pressed dial.
#
Emilia Clark sat in her office, the glow of the city skyline casting long shadows across the sleek glass surface of her desk. A crystal glass of bourbon sat untouched beside her, the amber liquid catching the dim light. She was reviewing the final pieces of Bruce’s impending downfall when her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
She raised an eyebrow. Few people had the nerve to call her unannounced, especially from an unlisted number. With deliberate calm, she picked up the phone and answered.
“This is Emilia.”
A sharp inhale. A pause. Then, a familiar, almost shaky voice.
“It’s Beth.”
Emilia allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. Right on schedule.
“Beth,” she said smoothly, leaning back in her chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
There was silence on the other end, but Emilia could hear it—the barely restrained panic in Beth’s breath, the hesitation of someone realizing their world was crumbling beneath them.
“I… I think we need to talk,” Beth finally said.
“About?” Emilia kept her tone light, indifferent. She wanted Beth to squirm.
“You know damn well about what.” Beth’s voice was low, urgent. “I don’t know how, but you’ve been watching. You know something.”
Emilia let the silence stretch just long enough to make Beth uncomfortable.
“Let’s say I do,” she said at last, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. “What exactly are you offering me in exchange for a conversation?”
A quiet curse on the other end. Beth was unraveling. Perfect.
“I just need to know where I stand,” Beth muttered. “With you.”
Emilia glanced at the documents spread across her desk—financial transfers, falsified contracts, every misstep Bruce and Beth had made laid bare before her.
“Meet me in one hour,” Emilia said, standing up and reaching for her coat. “The café on 5th. You’ll get your answer then.”
Beth hesitated.
“How do I know this isn’t a trap?”
Emilia smirked. “You don’t.”
And then she hung up.
#
Bruce Clark had always considered himself the smartest person in the room. He knew how to handle people, how to manipulate them—especially Beth. She had been easy to control, always eager to prove her worth to him, to be indispensable.
But tonight, something was wrong.
He sat in his penthouse, the city lights sprawling beneath him, but his focus was on the unanswered call log on his phone. Five calls. No response.
Beth never ignored him.
His jaw clenched as he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and stood, running a hand through his dark hair. His instincts screamed at him—something had shifted. Beth had been on edge the last time they spoke, too many questions, too much hesitation.
And now? Radio silence.
With a sharp exhale, Bruce grabbed his phone again and scrolled through his contacts. He didn’t trust many people, but he had resources—people who could find out exactly where Beth was and what she was up to.
He dialed a number. A gruff voice answered.
“Find Beth. Now.”
A pause.
“You think she’s talking?”
Bruce’s grip tightened on the phone.
“I think she’s about to make the biggest mistake of her life.”
He ended the call and poured himself a drink, but the burn of whiskey did nothing to ease the knot forming in his stomach.
Beth was many things—calculating, ambitious—but she was also scared. And scared people were unpredictable.
If she was running to Emilia… then everything was about to go to hell.
#
- Writer
