
Kayla reached Lance's floor, a knot of apprehension tightening in her stomach. Margaret, his ever-efficient secretary, stopped her at the door.
"Mr. Storm is currently with someone, Ms. Danvers," Margaret said, her voice as smooth as polished marble. "Would you like to wait?"
Kayla forced a smile. "Of course, Margaret. Please let me know when he's free."
The waiting area, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of her own office, felt suffocating. Minutes stretched into an eternity, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock and the faint murmur of conversation filtering through the closed door.
Just as her patience began to wear thin, the door swung open and Lana emerged, a triumphant smirk plastered on her face. 
Their eyes met, and Lana's smile widened, laced with a hint of barely concealed malice. Without a word, she sauntered out of the waiting area, leaving Kayla


The familiar hum of rush hour traffic filled Kayla's ears as she settled into her car. The weight of the day, both the professional triumphs and the personal disappointments, pressed down on her. But instead of heading straight to the luxurious high-rise she shared with Lance, a new thought took root.
Tonight, she craved the warmth of her family. A quick mental calculation confirmed her mother wasn't expecting her until Friday, but the thought of a home-cooked meal and genuine conversation was too tempting to resist. 
With a decisive nod, Kayla changed course, heading towards the familiar streets of her childhood.
Suddenly, a frantic voice cut through the traffic noise. Kayla glanced to her right to see Skylar, face flushed and hair windblown, waving her arms desperately. Pulling over with a sigh, she rolled down the window.
"Skylar? What's wrong?" Kayla asked, concern creasing her brow


The morning light, pale and unforgiving, streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, pulling Kayla from a restless sleep. She reached for Lance, the warmth of the night a fading memory beside the empty space in the king-sized bed. 
A wave of disappointment washed over her, quickly followed by a dull ache of sadness that had become a familiar companion. She hadn't expected anything different, of course. 
Passion with Lance was a rare commodity, usually reserved for special occasions, or in this case, fueled by alcohol.
Kayla sat up, stretching the kinks out of her back. The silence in the apartment was deafening, a stark contrast to the playful banter and whispered promises of the night before. "Lance?" she called out tentatively, but her voice echoed unanswered in the vastness of the penthouse.
No surprise there. Lance had always risen with the sun, a stark contrast to her own preference for a leisurely start to the day. She threw off the covers, the silk sheets clinging to her bare skin for a moment before she released herself from their embrace.
Every step of her morning routine was carefully choreographed, a practiced dance she performed every day. A gentle yoga session to wake up her muscles, followed by a lukewarm shower that massaged away the lingering ache of the night. 
She dressed meticulously, choosing a tailored black skirt and a crisp white blouse that accentuated her curves without being overtly revealing. 
Makeup was applied with practiced ease – a touch of foundation to even out her skin tone, a swipe of mascara to define her lashes, a delicate pink gloss on her lips.
Breakfast was a solitary affair – a cup of strong black coffee and a slice of whole-wheat toast. The silence was broken only by the soft clinking of silverware and the rhythmic tapping of her spoon against the porcelain mug. 
Checking her reflection in the sleek, chrome kitchen countertop, Kayla forced a smile. It was a practiced gesture, a mask she wore to shield the vulnerability beneath.
As she made her way towards the elevator, a notification on her phone screen caught her eye – a missed call from her mother. A pang of guilt stabbed at her. With her hectic work schedule and Lance's demanding needs, calls home had become a rare occurrence. 
Making a mental note to call her during her lunch break, Kayla stepped into the elevator, the polished metal doors sliding shut with a soft hiss.
The drive to work was a blur of city traffic and the rhythmic hum of the air conditioning. Kayla navigated the crowded streets on autopilot, her mind already swimming with the day's tasks. 
As she pulled into the company's underground parking lot, a familiar wave of nervous energy washed over her.
Storm Enterprises, the towering behemoth that dominated the city skyline, was Lance's inheritance, a legacy built by his ruthless father. 
Kayla, on the other hand, had clawed her way up the corporate ladder, relying on her meticulous planning, unwavering work ethic, and an uncanny ability to anticipate Lance's every whim.
As she stepped into the glass-walled elevator, a wave of cool air washed over her, momentarily erasing the lingering warmth of the previous night. 
The elevator doors slid open onto a brightly lit corridor, the rhythmic clicking of high heels and the low murmur of conversation creating a familiar background hum. 
Kayla, back in her element, took a deep breath, pasted on her practiced smile, and stepped out, ready to face yet another day at Storm Enterprises.
Kayla strode through the familiar glass doors of the Events department, the sterile white walls and muted carpeting a stark contrast to the luxurious chaos of her penthouse. 
Before she could even settle into her sleek, minimalist office chair, her assistant, Skylar, burst in, a flurry of pastel pink and nervous energy.
"Kayla! You won't believe it!" Skylar exclaimed, her voice breathless. "Marketing just dumped this new project on us."
Kayla raised an eyebrow, a practiced calm settling over her. Skylar's enthusiasm was endearing, but often a harbinger of chaos. "Take a deep breath, Skylar," she said gently. "What project are we talking about?"
Skylar, finally calming down a bit, fumbled with a manila folder. "It's a… a kids' event?" she clarified, her voice uncertain.
Kayla's curiosity piqued. Storm Enterprises wasn't exactly known for its family-friendly atmosphere. "A kids' event?" she echoed. "Elaborate."
Skylar flipped open the folder, revealing a document outlining a "Bring Your Kids to Work Day" event planned by the Marketing department. 
Apparently, they wanted to organize a fun, interactive event for the children of their employees. The problem? They had absolutely no clue how to do it.
Kayla skimmed the document, a wry smile playing on her lips. This was classic Marketing – flashy ideas with zero execution skills. A challenge, but not an unwelcome one. She glanced at Skylar, a glint in her eyes.
"Alright, Skylar," she said, her voice firm but encouraging. "Let's see what they have in mind. And then," she added, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "let's show them how it's done."
The next few hours were a whirlwind of brainstorming sessions, vendor calls, and venue scouting. Kayla, her years of experience kicking in, expertly navigated the logistics, transforming Marketing's vague ideas into a concrete plan. 
The event would be held in the expansive company courtyard, transformed into a miniature amusement park with bouncy castles, face painting stations, and a petting zoo. Local food trucks would provide kid-friendly snacks, and a magician would keep the children entertained.
Skylar, finally catching her breath, looked around the office at the flurry of activity with a mixture of awe and relief. "Wow, Kayla," she breathed. "You always know how to take charge."
Kayla smiled faintly. It was true. She thrived in the organized chaos of event planning, the satisfaction of a flawless execution a reward in itself. But just as she settled into a comfortable rhythm, her phone buzzed. A quick glance at the screen sent a jolt through her. It was a call from Margaret, Lance's secretary.
Her heart hammered in her chest, an unwelcome mix of apprehension and a strange anticipation swirling within her. Taking a deep breath, she excused herself from the team and headed for a quiet corner to take the call.
"Ms. Danvers," Margaret's clipped voice came through the receiver. "Mr. Storm requests your presence in his office immediately."
"Is there anything specific he needs?" Kayla asked, her voice carefully neutral.
"He simply said 'urgently,'" Margaret replied, her tone brooking no further questions.
Kayla sighed. The peaceful afternoon was over. Whatever storm was brewing in Lance's office, she had no choice but to face it. 
With a final glance at her team, a silent promise to pick up where they left off hanging in the air, Kayla headed towards the elevator, her mind already racing with possibilities.

Kayla reached Lance's floor, a knot of apprehension tightening in her stomach. Margaret, his ever-efficient secretary, stopped her at the door.
"Mr. Storm is currently with someone, Ms. Danvers," Margaret said, her voice as smooth as polished marble. "Would you like to wait?"
Kayla forced a smile. "Of course, Margaret. Please let me know when he's free."
The waiting area, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of her own office, felt suffocating. Minutes stretched into an eternity, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock and the faint murmur of conversation filtering through the closed door.
Just as her patience began to wear thin, the door swung open and Lana emerged, a triumphant smirk plastered on her face. 
Their eyes met, and Lana's smile widened, laced with a hint of barely concealed malice. Without a word, she sauntered out of the waiting area, leaving Kayla fuming silently.
Margaret's voice startled her. "Mr. Storm will see you now, Ms. Danvers."
Ka

CHAPTER FIVE – TERRIBLE KARMA