Weight

Weight
After saying it, I felt a heavy weight lift off my chest, like my lungs had been tied and someone finally loosened the knot. Honestly, she needed to hear it. Someone had to tell her Diego had a wife, because nothing in this entire mess was adding up. I was confused as hell, and hearing her claim she was Diego’s girlfriend was like pouring cold water down my spine.

Diego’s girlfriend?When did that start? How? Why?

The confusion twisted inside me until it almost became pain. And maybe… maybe a stupid part of me felt jealous. Why? I don’t know. I didn’t want to think too deeply about it. All I knew was that my chest hurt, my stomach turned, and if she had stayed one more minute bragging about being Diego’s girlfriend, I might have grabbed her hair and dragged her across the cafeteria floor.

But instead of yelling or starting a scene like I expected, she just froze, her face flushing red with rage. Then, without a word, she stomped off dramatically, her designer heels clacking against the tiles, her two followers scrambling after her like confused puppies.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Felicia let out a long exhausting sigh and shook her head.

“Well… she’s a pussy,” Felicia muttered, disgust flooding her voice.

I blinked at her, speechless. What in the actual flipping hell had just happened?

“I still don’t understand,” I whispered. “What’s going on? Who is she really?”

Felicia looked around carefully as if making sure no security camera was zoomed into us. Then she leaned in.

“Her name is Lola,” she began, sounding irritated already. “And for reasons that none of us understand, she keeps claiming she’s Diego’s girlfriend. For over two years now, she has been telling anyone who has ears that she and Diego are dating.”

My mouth fell open. Two years?

“But worse,” Felicia continued, “sometimes she comes down from his office looking all smug, like she owns the place. No one knows if it’s true or if she’s just mentally gone. She’s the definition of a walking red flag.”

My mind spun even faster. Two years? How could Ellie not know this? Would she really let a rumor like that run wild? Or was this a sign that something much deeper was happening behind closed doors?

“Does… does his wife know about this?” I asked carefully.

Felicia shrugged, palms up. “Nobody knows. And honestly? Most people are scared to talk about anything involving Diego’s private life. If his wife knows, then she’s a ghost. Nobody has ever seen her. Not once.”

Her words hit me hard. That meant Ellie kept her identity secret too. Just like she wanted mine to be kept.

Then suddenly Felicia’s hand shot forward, grabbing mine gently but urgently. Her eyes widened.

“Wait. Hold on. What you told yola—was that actually true?” she asked. “Are you really Diego’s wife's sister?”

I froze.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

I had spoken too quickly, too confidently. I hadn’t even thought about the consequences. The whole plan was to stay low, blend in, and get close to Diego without raising suspicion. But I had just taken that plan, folded it neatly, and threw it inside fire.

Felicia heard me clearly. And worse, she believed me.

My throat tightened as I tried to think of a way out—but nothing came. And hiding it now would make everything worse.

“Yes,” I said finally, my voice low. “I am Diego’s wife’s sister. But that doesn’t change anything. I’m still the same Lyla you met this morning.”

Felicia’s expression softened immediately. She squeezed my hand with a warm, reassuring smile.

“I don’t care, girl,” she said. “You’re still cool. And you’re still my friend.”

Just like that, relief washed over me again. It felt good. So good. In a world where people abandoned you once you had nothing, it felt strange—almost unreal—to find someone who didn’t flinch because of your connection to wealth or power. Someone who just… liked you.

We continued chatting, gossiping, and joking about the most random things until lunchtime finally ended. Then we parted ways, each of us heading back to our offices.

Back at my desk, I forced myself to focus. I worked for almost two hours, sorting files, reorganizing documents, and trying not to let my brain drift back to the cafeteria scene.

But my mind wouldn’t rest.

Some women were shameless. Bold-faced. Audacious. How could anyone confidently claim a man as their boyfriend when he had a wife? And to top it all—walk around the company acting like she was the first lady of the entire building.

It was ridiculous.

Just as I was massaging my temples, Zion entered the office.

“How are you coping with everything?” he asked gently.

I let out a deep breath that seemed to come from my soul.

“God, I’m going to pass out. It’s not easy at all.”

Zion chuckled lightly. “It never is on your first day. But don’t worry—you’ll adjust.”

He glanced at the time. “It’s 4 PM already. Sir is waiting for you downstairs.”

My heart skipped. Sir. Diego. Waiting for me.

Great. Awkward air part two.

Before I could gather myself, the office door burst open and Felicia reappeared, panting slightly.

“I just wanted to check on you before I leave,” she said quickly. “I have a date to catch. Byeee!”

She waved like a playful child and sprinted off. Zion’s eyes followed her unconsciously, lingering long after she vanished. His expression was dazed—lost.

I raised a brow. Oh? Interesting.

When he finally turned back, I gave him a slow knowing smile.

He shook his head instantly. “No. Don’t start.”

I laughed quietly, grabbed my bag, and followed him out of the office.

The moment we got outside, my steps faltered.

A Rolls-Royce Phantom was parked right in front of the building—shiny, intimidating, elegant. The kind of car that could pay my entire rent for three years if it was sold.

“For me?” I whispered.

Zion nodded. “Yes. Sir is inside.”

Holy shit.

I swallowed hard and got in. The moment I entered, Diego’s expensive fragrance filled the entire space—rich, dominant, calm but powerful.

He didn’t look at me. Not once. His eyes stayed glued to his iPad as if I wasn’t even there.

“Good evening, sir,” I greeted timidly.

He hummed. A low sound. Barely there. But it still made my skin heat.

The car drove off.

The silence inside wasn’t normal silence—it was the heavy, awkward type. The type that made your heart race and your palms sweat. The type that suffocates you slowly.

I stared out the window, trying to erase the memory of our encounter at the hotel. But the moment I tried, the scene replayed clearly in my head.

His grip.His voice.His breath.The tension.

My entire posture stiffened.

Finally, after what felt like a century, the car stopped at the mansion. The gates opened automatically, and we drove inside.

The moment the car halted, I jumped out as if the seat was on fire and hurried inside the house.

The mansion was unusually quiet.

Where was Ellie?

I didn’t see her anywhere, not the living room, not the hallway. My confusion grew stronger, but I didn’t care enough to search.

I reached my room, closed the door behind me, and let my body slide down slowly until my back hit the wood. My mind was exhausted. My limbs were heavy. Today felt like three days combined into one.

I dragged myself to the bed and collapsed onto it. My brain was fuzzy—like cotton stuffed behind my eyes. I was seconds away from drifting into sleep when a loud knock snapped me awake.

The door opened before I could even respond.

Ellie.

Her expression was thunderous. Rage simmered all over her face, and immediately my body tensed.

Oh no.

What now?

She stepped inside, her expensive dress shimmering under the lights. She looked like a goddess, but an angry, dangerous one.

“I see you just got back from the office,” she said, voice sharp and cold.

“Yes,” I murmured. “I just came in.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“I tracked your movements today,” she said.

My heart dropped.

“And I noticed you didn’t even try to seduce Diego.” Her voice rose, but she tried to keep it low enough so Diego wouldn’t hear. “Why do you think I brought you here? To sit in an office? To enjoy comfort? To forget your past?”

She took a threatening step closer.

“You have a task, Lyla. A mission. And you are not doing it. Do you want me to fire you?” she hissed.

Her anger burned through the room, and I stood frozen, unable to breathe.