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“That’s none of your business,” she said, her voice shaking now. She clutched her mug tighter, her knuckles white. “And if you don’t leave my office, I’ll report you to Mr. Ellison and Mr. Grant.”

Matt’s face twisted into an ugly sneer. He stepped closer, leaning over her desk, his presence oppressive. “Go ahead,” he hissed. “See how far that gets you. You think either of them cares about some junior attorney’s whining? You’re not special, Ruth. You’re replaceable. But me?” He smirked, straightening up. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m a partner. The firm will not bear that kind of scrutiny, canceling a partnership. Fair warning, Miss Everhart, if this obstinance continues, I’ll need to put you on a tight leash. I like to give the lawyers I’m responsible for some autonomy, but…well, we may require daily meetings in my office.”

She froze, her body rigid with fear as he stared her down. Finally, with a mocking laugh, he backed toward the door. “I’ll see you at the party, Ruthie,” he said, his voice dripping with threat. “Better bring that ‘date’ of yours.”

The door shut behind him, but the air in her office felt suffocating. Ruth stood motionless, the cup dropping from her hand, her breaths coming fast and shallow, her heart pounding as if she’d just run a marathon.

She gripped the edge of her desk, her nails pressing into the wood. Matt’s presence lingered like a dark cloud, refusing to dissipate. Her mind raced with a torrent of emotions—fear, anger, helplessness. She hated him. She hated herself for letting him intimidate her.

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away.Not here. Not now.The mantra cycled in her head as she paced her office, every step punctuated by the tremor in her hands.

The holiday party. She had lied to Matt, told him she had a date, but now the panic swelled. She had no such date. Her dress from Rent the Runway would arrive tomorrow, but what about a date?Is there such a thing as rent-a-date?she thought bitterly.

A sharp laugh escaped her lips, but it felt jagged and out of place. Her mind swung back to Matt. Was she his only target? Had he cornered other women the same way? Her stomach churned. She needed to leave. Now.

Ruth slammed the Curtis Warren file closed with trembling hands and shoved it into her bag.Get out of here, Ruth. Just get out.She grabbed her coat, locked her office, and kept her eyes trained on her surroundings as she walked briskly to the garage. The cold echo of her heels against concrete mirrored her pounding heart. She’d forgotten to change into her boots. She exhaled with relief when she saw Matt’s obnoxious yellow Hummer was gone.

Once inside her SUV, she locked the doors, the sound of the metallic click like a lifeline. She sat still, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly, they ached. The fear inside her felt overwhelming, clawing at her from every direction.

She needed help. Someone who would listen. Someone who would take her seriously. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone and dialed.

“Brad?” she asked, her voice shaky but resolute. “I need to ask you something. Can I stop by?”

“Of course,” he replied in his usual calm and steady tone. “I’m in my office.”

Ruth exhaled deeply, a small measure of relief washing over her. She wasn’t going to let Matt scare her into silence. Not anymore.

The ten-minute drive to Brad’s office felt longer than usual, her mind playing cruel tricks. Every shadow seemed like it might harbor Matt, lurking, watching. When she finally arrived, relief washed over her like a wave. But as she stepped inside, her breath caught again.

Brad wasn’t alone. Alex and Noah were there, deep in conversation. Alex looked up first. Then Noah, whose stoic demeanor unnerved her. They all turned their attention to her, their expressions shifting from curiosity to concern.

“Ruth?” Alex’s voice was soft, but there was an edge of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, hesitating. How could she even begin to explain? But Brad’s steady gaze secured her, and before she knew it, the words spilled out. Halting at first but then pouring forth—the latest suffocating encounter with Matt, the lies she had told to fend him off, the paralyzing fear of retaliation.

When she finished, silence hung in the room. The men exchanged looks that spoke volumes. Ruth shrank under their scrutiny, but Alex spoke first.

“You can’t keep this to yourself,” he said firmly, though not unkindly. “You have to report him.”

Ruth shook her head vehemently. “You don’t understand. He’s a junior partner. If I go to the boss without proof—” Her voice broke, and she looked away. “I’ll be the one who pays for it.”

Brad leaned forward, his tone measured but resolute. “Ruth, we understand. But letting him get away with this? It’s not an option. If you won’t report him yet, we need to get some proof.”

* * *

Noah had been quiet,leaning back in his chair, his sharp eyes never leaving her. Now he spoke, his voice calm but laced with a determined edge. “He’s a predator. He’ll act again. We’ll figure something out. But first, you’ve got that party to deal with, right?”

Ruth nodded, suddenly remembering her flimsy lie. “Yeah. And… I said I had a date.”

Brad and Alex both turned their heads toward Noah, almost in unison. The investigator blinked, then smirked.

“You’re volunteering me?” he asked dryly.

“Who else?” Alex shot back with a grin.

Ruth’s cheeks flushed. “You don’t have to?—”

Noah cut her off, his tone light but with a teasing edge, “It’s fine. Black tie, right?” When she nodded, he leaned back, crossing his arms. “I’ve got a tux. Worked undercover in one a few years ago.”