Chapter 11

The heavy oak doors of the conference room shut behind us with a muted thud, but the weight of the meeting clung to me like a huge smoke. My pulse was still erratic, my hands damp against the notepad I carried. I quickened my steps to match Adrian’s, but his stride was unyielding, his focus forward, as though the accusations tossed across the table hadn’t grazed him at all.

They had grazed me.

My brother’s name, spat like poison. Miguel reduced to nothing more than a liability, a traitor, a problem to be erased. The words had cut deep, too deep, and though Adrian had defended him, the echo of suspicion lingered in the air. Suspicion that felt dangerously close to me.

By the time we reached the car waiting outside the sleek building, my legs felt stiff, my chest tight. The driver opened the door, and Adrian slid in without hesitation. I followed, careful not to stumble under the weight of his eyes that still seemed to follow me even outside.

The leather seats were cool, the windows tinted dark against the afternoon glare. For a few heartbeats, silence filled the car, broken only by the low growl of the engine. I clenched my tote bag in my lap, knuckles white against the fabric. My chest rose and fell too fast, but I tried to steady it, and tried to look composed.

Adrian shifted slightly, his sharp profile catching the dim light. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance at me. Just once. Then again, lingering.

“Be calm,” he said suddenly. His voice was low, steady, but with a firm tone.

My head snapped toward him.

“Don’t let their words get to you,” he continued, eyes narrowing faintly as if measuring my reaction. “Or their threats.” His pause was deliberate. His gaze, unwavering. “Unless, of course…” His lips curved, not quite into a smile. “…you have something to hide.”

The words crashed into me like a blow. My stomach dropped, my throat clenched tight. For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

He was staring at me intently, as though peeling back layers I fought so hard to keep intact. Searching for cracks. Testing me.

I forced myself to swallow the hard lump in my throat, to find something resembling composure. My lips tugged into what I hoped was a convincing smile, though it trembled faintly. “I don’t,” I whispered, my voice betraying me with its uneven edge.

Adrian’s eyes lingered a moment longer, then shifted away. He leaned back into his seat, pulling out his phone with ease. His thumbs moved over the screen, dismissing me, as though the moment hadn’t just scorched my insides raw.

The car roared back to life, the city blurring past the tinted glass. I sat rigid, the air thick with tension between us. My heart refused to settle, each beat louder than the last.

Back at the office, the atmosphere felt different. He didn’t speak as we walked through the halls, but the tension clung to me like a shadow. When we reached his office, he finally turned, his voice clipped, it was all about business.

“Make a photocopy of everything you wrote down today.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the abruptness. “All of it?”

His eyes sharpened. “Every word. Then scan it and back it up. No mistakes.”

I nodded quickly, clutching the notebook tighter. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He brushed past me into his office, already reaching for something on his desk.

My legs felt heavy as I made my way to the copy room, the notebook like a live weight in my arms. Every line I’d scribbled during that meeting suddenly felt like a death sentence if it fell into the wrong hands.

The hum of the copier filled the small, sterile room, each page sliding under the glass, each duplicate spilling into the tray like another reminder that I was tangled too deep in something I didn’t fully understand. My hands trembled as I stacked the copies neatly, slid them into a folder, then fed the scanner until the machine beeped its confirmation.

When it was done, I exhaled shakily, my chest burning. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the folder in my hands. My brother’s name. Their threats. Adrian’s suspicion. All of it inked across these pages.

I was suffocating.

I slipped out of the copy room, the hallway swaying faintly around me. My heels echoed against the marble floor as I quickened my steps. I needed air. No—more than that, I needed to let these emotions out.

The bathroom was mercifully empty. I pushed inside, locked the door, and stumbled to the nearest stall. My knees hit the cold tile floor, and I bent over the toilet as my stomach lurched violently.

It came in waves—nausea, grief, fear—all clawing up at once until my throat burned and tears stung my eyes. When there was nothing left, I collapsed against the stall wall, sobbing quietly into my hands.

Miguel. My brother. They had spoken about him like he was nothing. Like his life had been expendable.

And Adrian—Adrian had defended him, yes. Fiercely. But had it been conviction or performance? I didn’t know anymore. My heart warred with my head, torn between the shred of respect in Adrian’s voice and the suspicion in his eyes.

Dragging myself up, I stumbled to the mirror. My reflection hit me like a stranger’s face—mascara smudged into dark streaks, my lips trembling, eyes swollen and wild. I gripped the sink so hard my knuckles whitened, fury coursing through me.

“How dare they,” I whispered hoarsely. “How dare they talk about him like that…”

The anger burned hot, and I slammed my palm against the mirror. The glass rattled, threatening to shatter. My breath came ragged, with my chest heaving.

But then the door handle rattled. Someone was about to walk in.

I scrambled, splashing water on my face, scrubbing away the worst of the mascara streaks. I dabbed at my skin with trembling fingers, applying just enough makeup to mask the wreck I’d become.

When the door opened, a fellow female employee stepped inside. Her gaze brushed over me, lingering for a second on my damp lashes, but she smiled politely.

I forced one in return. A brittle curve of my lips, nothing more. Then I slipped past her briskly, heels clicking a little too fast, my composure stitched together by threads that felt ready to snap.

The hallway blurred as I returned to my office. My breath steadied just enough to keep my mask intact. But inside, I was breaking.