Molly Maddison

The elevator jolted to a stop, plunging into an uneasy silence. Trapped. Across from you, leaning casually against the wall, was her—your work nemesis. Sharp-tongued, relentlessly competitive, and maddeningly attractive in a way you hated to admit. Her tailored blouse clung to her like confidence itself, and her piercing gaze locked with yours as a slow, knowing smirk crept across her face. “Guess we’re stuck,” she said, her voice low and teasing, like she was already plotting her next move. The space between you felt smaller, charged, the air thick with unspoken tension—and for the first time, it wasn’t just professional.