Devil in a suit

CHAPTER THREE:JUST DOING ME

The soft chime of my alarm echoed through the apartment, pulling me from a peaceful sleep.

I blinked at the ceiling for a moment before reaching over to switch it off. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing my bedroom in a warm golden glow.

Home.

As much as I'd enjoyed my vacation, there was something comforting about waking up in my own apartment.

I stretched my arms over my head and smiled.

"I've missed this."

Don't get me wrong—I loved vacations. Sleeping in, beaches, room service... it was nice.

For exactly one week.

After that, I started missing the thrill of the markets, boardrooms, negotiations, and impossible deadlines. Most people counted the days until their next vacation.

I counted the days until I could get back to work.

Being an investment banker wasn't just my career.

It was my passion.

An hour later, I stood in front of my mirror, smoothing the sleeves of my ivory blouse before slipping into a fitted navy blazer. Black tailored trousers, matching heels, my watch, and a simple pair of diamond studs completed the look.

Professional.

Elegant.

Exactly how I liked it.

I grabbed my handbag, apartment keys, and headed downstairs.

The crisp morning air greeted me as the city came alive around me.

Instead of driving straight to the office, I made my usual stop.

Zoe's Café.

The small café sat on the corner of Fifth Avenue, tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. It wasn't the fanciest place in the city, but the coffee was unmatched.

The bell above the door chimed as I walked in.

Without looking up from the espresso machine, Zoe grinned.

"Double caramel latte, no whipped cream."

I laughed.

"I should be worried that you know my order by heart."

"You've ordered the same thing for four years. It would be embarrassing if I didn't."

"Fair enough."

She placed the steaming cup in front of me.

"Vacation over already?"

"Unfortunately."

"You sound disappointed."

"Oh, I am."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't ready for it to end."

I took a sip of my coffee before smiling.

"But I was definitely ready to get back to work."

"Now that's something I'll never understand."

"I know," I laughed. "Most people think I'm crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy."

“Thank you”

She leaned against the counter.

"I just think you enjoy spreadsheets a little too much."

"I enjoy closing billion-dollar deals."

"See?" she teased. "Crazy."

We both laughed before I thanked her and stepped back outside.

The morning rush had already begun.

As I waited to cross the street, a massive digital billboard lit up across the intersection.

ADRIAN STERLING

President & CEO, Sterling Group

Building Tomorrow.

There he was.

Looking every bit the powerful business entrepreneur the magazines loved to write about.

A tailored charcoal suit.

Confident smile.

That unmistakable air of someone who always knew exactly what he was doing.

I couldn't help smiling.I spent the goddamn weekend with this legend.

"Still stealing headlines, Adrian."

The pedestrian light changed, and I continued toward Montclair Capital Partners.

The towering glass building reflected the morning sun, making it shimmer against the skyline.

Walking through those revolving doors never got old.

The energy.

The ambition.

The constant movement.

It reminded me why I loved this job.

"Good morning, Ms. Reed."

Vanessa Brooks,My secretary, looked up from her desk with a warm smile.

"Morning, Vanessa."

She handed me my tablet.

"Welcome back. Your calendar is packed."

"I'd be disappointed if it wasn't."

She smiled as she read through my schedule.

"Nine o'clock, meeting with Nathaniel Pierce from legal regarding the Kingston Holdings acquisition. Ten-thirty, courthouse approval hearing. Noon, presentation to the Morgan Pharmaceuticals board. Two o'clock, investor negotiations. Four-thirty, briefing with Mr. Bennett."

I nodded, already mentally organizing my day.

"Perfect."

"You actually enjoy this, don't you?"

"I love it."

"And here I am counting the hours until Friday."

I laughed as I stepped into the elevator.

"Someone has to keep this place running."

The conference room was already occupied when I arrived.

Nathaniel Pierce stood beside the screen displaying the financial projections for the Kingston Holdings acquisition.

"Good morning, Katrina."

"Morning, Nathaniel."

He handed me a folder.

"We've found a potential legal issue."

I skimmed the documents before pointing to a balance sheet.

"They've hidden outstanding liabilities through one of their subsidiaries."

Nathaniel looked back at the report before shaking his head in admiration.

"I completely missed that."

"It's why financial due diligence comes before signatures."

An hour later, we were at the courthouse, where Nathaniel handled the legal proceedings while I answered questions about the valuation model, projected earnings, and financial risks surrounding the acquisition.

The approval came through without complications.

Back at Montclair Capital Partners, my afternoon disappeared into conference calls, valuation models, financial reports, and negotiations with clients.

Exactly where I wanted to be.

Some people chased excitement.

Mine just happened to come with spreadsheets, stock prices, and billion-dollar transactions. Exactly how a perfect day should go.

By the time I stepped out of Montclair Capital Partners, the city was glowing beneath the golden hues of the setting sun.

Rush hour had already begun.

People hurried past one another, taxis filled the streets with an endless chorus of horns, and the sidewalks buzzed with conversations from strangers eager to get home after another long day.

I stood outside the building for a moment, breathing in the cool evening air.

Another successful day.

Another acquisition approved.

Another client satisfied.

A smile tugged at my lips.

Days like this reminded me why I loved what I did.

My phone vibrated inside my handbag.

Group Chat

Amelia: Girls' Night? Zoe's Café. Seven sharp. No excuses.

A second message popped up almost immediately.

Annie: If you're late, we're ordering dessert without you.

I laughed softly.

Me: Give me an hour.

Satisfied, I slipped my phone back into my bag and headed toward the parking garage.

—

The drive home wasn't particularly long, but evening traffic made it feel like forever.

I turned up the music, letting the soft rhythm fill the silence.

For once, I wasn't thinking about stock valuations or investment portfolios.

I was thinking about absolutely nothing.

It was... nice.

When I finally pulled into my apartment building, I grabbed my work bag and rode the elevator to the twenty-third floor.

The familiar scent of lavender greeted me as I stepped inside.

Home.

I kicked off my heels almost immediately.

"Oh, that's better."

Walking around in heels all day was part of the job.

Walking barefoot afterward was one of life's greatest pleasures.

I changed into an oversized T-shirt and a pair of gray shorts before gathering the clothes I'd left in the laundry basket.

The washing machine hummed to life as I poured in detergent.

One chore down.

Several to go.

I wandered into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and frowned.

Empty.

Well... almost empty.

A carton of milk.

Half a lemon.

Eggs.

Butter.

And a container of strawberries that had definitely seen better days.

"So much for cooking."

I sighed before deciding to make pasta with whatever ingredients I had left.

While the water boiled, I leaned against the counter and replied to a few emails on my phone.

Five minutes became ten.

Ten became fifteen.

Then—

A sharp burning smell filled the apartment.

"Oh no."

I rushed toward the stove.

Smoke curled lazily from the pot.

The pasta was beyond saving.

I stared at the disaster for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"I negotiate multi-million-dollar investments for a living, but pasta defeats me every single time."

Dinner officially became takeout.

After placing an order, I folded the clean laundry while waiting for it to arrive.

My phone buzzed again.

This time, it was my mother.

I smiled before answering.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hello, sweetheart. How was your first day back?"

"Busy."

"I expected that."

She paused.

"Did you remember to eat?"

I looked toward the burnt pot still sitting on the stove.

"...Eventually."

"Kathryna."

"I'm ordering food."

She sighed dramatically.

"I don't know how someone so brilliant can be so hopeless in the kitchen."

"I have priorities."

"You certainly do."

We spoke for another few minutes before saying our goodbyes. We didn't talk much but when we did, it was relieving.

The doorbell rang shortly afterward.

Food.

Finally,

I ate quickly before freshening up and changing into light-wash jeans, a white blouse, and a cropped beige jacket.

Girls' night deserved something more stylish than an oversized T-shirt.

By the time I reached Zoe's Café, laughter spilled onto the sidewalk.

The bell above the door chimed as I stepped inside.

"There she is!" Annie announced dramatically.

"Our very own Wall Street queen," Amelia teased.

"I was beginning to think you'd chosen spreadsheets over us," Amelia added.

I slid into the empty chair between them.

"I almost did."

Two pairs of eyes narrowed at me.

"I'm kidding!"

"Barely," Annie muttered.

Zoe appeared moments later carrying a tray of drinks.

"One caramel latte for Kay."

"You really know me too well."

"I'd be concerned if I didn't."

The conversation flowed effortlessly after that.

Amelia spent twenty minutes complaining about a client who insisted on changing their mind every other day.

Annie confessed she'd accidentally sent a voice note meant for her sister to her boss instead.

We laughed so hard tears filled our eyes.

Halfway through the evening, Zoe returned carrying a plate of warm chocolate croissants.

"On the house."

"You spoil us," Annie said.

"You girls bring life to this place."

The rest of the evening passed by stories, laughter, and harmless gossip.

For two wonderful hours, there were no financial forecasts.

No investment meetings.

No billion-dollar negotiations.

Just three friends enjoying each other's company.

As I drove home later that night, the city lights shimmered across the windshield.

I couldn't help smiling.

I loved my career.

I love the thrill of every deal I ever closed.

But moments like this reminded me that success means very little if you had nobody to share them with.

I unlocked my apartment, placed the key on my kitchen counter, walked toward the window, overlooking the city.

Tomorrow will bring another packed schedule.

Another challenge.

Another opportunity to do the thing I loved.

And strangely enough.

I couldn't wait.t

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