Episode 4

Camila Reinhart

I woke up with a strange feeling, a mixture of heat, silence, and a masculine perfume I didn't recognize. My body took a few seconds to react, but my mind didn't. Memories from the night before came in disordered flashes: lights, music, kisses, firm hands, looks charged with intention.

The stranger.

I opened my eyes wide.

I wasn't in my hotel.

I sat up slowly, careful not to make noise. The room was spacious, sober, elegant. Shades of gray, dark wood, clean lines. Nothing overloaded. Everything perfectly ordered. Very... German. I turned my head and saw him.

He was sleeping soundly next to me.

The sheet barely covered his torso, and even asleep, he maintained that serious, controlled expression, as if even rest were under his own rules. For a second, I watched him carefully. The night had been intense, unexpected, delicious... but nothing more.

I couldn't stay.

I wasn't a woman who clung to one-night stands, however memorable they might be. It had been a necessary parenthesis, not a new chapter.

I got up carefully, picked up my clothes from the floor, and got dressed quickly. As I did, a part of me—the most impulsive part—wanted to wake him up, say something, say goodbye like a decent person. But the part that always won, the part that survived, the part that planned... told me no.

I left the apartment in silence.

Only when I was outside did I realize something important: I had no idea where I was. I took out my phone and opened Maps. The blue dot blinked for a few seconds before marking my location.

Grunewald.

Of course. One of the most exclusive residential areas in Berlin. Wide streets, elegant houses, tall trees, absolute silence. Living there wasn't a coincidence. That man wasn't a simple tourist or an occasional partygoer. But it was too late to ask myself questions.

I walked several blocks until I found a taxi. As I moved forward, I decided that the memories of that night would stay where they belonged: in my memory. I would return to New York, to my real life, to my plans. He would stay in Berlin. Two lines that crossed once and never again.

And that was fine.

That same day, I rented a car. I didn't want to stay locked up thinking too much; thinking too much always led me to dangerous conclusions. I left the city with an uncertain destination, letting myself be guided by roads that opened between forests and lakes.

I visited Potsdam, with its palaces and impeccable gardens. I walked through Wannsee, breathing fresh air by the lake. I passed through Werder (Havel), a quiet town, almost frozen in time. Germany had something that calmed me: order, structure, silence when needed.

As I drove, my mind began to do what it did best.

Plan.

Sebastian Arismendi wasn't going to get away with it. I knew that the position of head of financial studies and strategies in the company would soon be open. The current director would be leaving, and Sebastian had been preparing for months to take that position. I knew it because I myself had helped him more than once, because I was the one who corrected his reports, who refined his presentations.

I hadn't applied before for one reason: I knew how much he wanted it, and at that time I still loved him.

Now... now it was different.

That position would be mine.

Not only because I deserved it more, but because I knew exactly where to touch to destabilize him. Sebastian was narcissistic, egotistical, unable to tolerate losing, much less losing against a woman. That would destroy him from within. And as if that weren't enough, the salary for the position doubled what I currently earned.

The play was perfect.

Of course, to execute it I would have to face uncomfortable things. I would have to return to my parents' house and give explanations. I wouldn't lie to them. I never did. But that could wait.

I also had to figure out where to live. My old apartment was for rent, and I wasn't going to evict two punctual and respectful old people just because of my personal drama. So, as I drove down the road, I started looking for housing options.

Quiet areas, well located, close to work. My life wasn't going to stop.

And then I remembered something else.

Sebastian had lost another important position some time ago for underestimating his own boss. A reserved, powerful man, almost invisible within the company, but with an enormous influence on the final decisions.

My ex's boss.

I smiled slightly.

I took out my phone and started searching on social media. LinkedIn, conferences, old photos, financial articles. I wanted to know what he liked, how he thought, where he moved. Not by chance, but by strategy.

Because this time, I wasn't going to improvise.

This time, I was going to win.

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