Chapter 100

When I finally make it to the 26th floor, I see Marcus’s assistant, Lauren, talking to my boyfriend’s two New York employees, Chester and Doug, who have arrived before the rest of his team. I nod as I pass, but I don’t stray from my path.

I enter his glass-walled office and pause at the door to take a good look at him. He’s standing at a raised drafting table, shirt sleeves rolled up, body relaxed, completely in his element. He’s wearing headphones, and from the measured, fluid way his hand moves, I guess he’s listening to classical music—a daring, innovative piece.

I start walking again and notice the corkboard Marcus has hung on the only solid wall of the office. It’s already packed with sketches of his project, along with photos of the island from every possible angle and location.

“Bastards,” I whisper. Fucking bastards.

Frustrated, I run my fingers through my short hair. I don’t know if I came down here because I thought a walk would help me shake off my