The sound brought back unsettling memories of a crazy night.

A night when, after pleading, Mitchel had shown her a bit of mercy, yet the duration had been unbearable for Raegan.

She pondered what had driven Mitchel to such extremes.

Determined to initiate a calm conversation that night, Raegan waited for Mitchel.

Mitchel emerged from the shower, less intimidating in navy blue pajamas, his hair damp.

Seeking to ease the tension, Raegan asked casually, “Have you eaten dinner?"

“Yes," Mitchel responded succinctly.

“Are you thirsty?" she continued, intent on breaking the ice.

Mitchel held her gaze for a moment, then nodded.

Raegan hesitantly poured a glass of water for Mitchel, who was casually leaning against the bed, absorbed in the latest magazine.

As she hesitated to hand him the glass, Mitchel swiftly grasped her wrist.

He set the glass on the bedside table and, with a gentle pull, Raegan found herself unexpectedly seated across his lap, her cheeks flushing with surprise.

“Ah!" Startled, Raegan let out a cry. She attempted to rise, but Mitchel firmly held her ankle.

He rubbed the protruding bones of her ankle casually as he asked with an icy tone, "Do you have something to tell me?"

Trying to remain calm, Raegan replied, "I've work to attend to. May I go to the company tomorrow?"

"You needn't bother with that anymore."

Confused and alarmed, Raegan responded, “What do you mean?"

Mitchel revealed, "I've arranged your resignation with your manager.

You're free from work now. Aren't you pleased?"

This news infuriated Raegan. She had intended for a civil conversation, but anger got the better part of her.