Chapter 44 Chapter 44

Chapter 44 Chapter 44
MARTHA'S POV:

"What's wrong, Martha?" Judith asked me first when she saw me rush into the restaurant like a lunatic, as if I was being chased by a lion.

"Nothing. Excuse me," I said as I rushed past Judith amidst the stares of some patrons and dashed ahead to Mr. Weston's office. My heart was slamming against my rib cage.

I didn't even knock as I flung the door open and shut it behind me. I calmed down as soon as my eyes landed on my boss.

Mr. Weston rose from his desk and hurried to meet me. A wave of concern crashed over his face as he asked, "What's wrong, Martha? Did someone attack you? Were you hurt?"

Mr. Weston grasped my arms, and I breathed out heavily.

"Nothing, sir. I felt someone was following me. I felt that way after getting off the bus, but I didn't pay attention to it. Now I have that uneasy feeling again. Do you think someone is after my life, or maybe my stepsister or Mark sent someone to attack me?" I asked, looking up at Mr. Weston's face as he towered above me.

My body was trembling, my heart racing faster in my chest as Mr. Weston's hands held me close. His eyes narrowed at the thought of someone stalking me.

"There is a chance that someone could be after your life. After all, your father's company is worth millions, and you're the successor. They could be after you to get it," he said, his voice cold.

My lips trembled as I asked, "What do I do now, sir?"

"Calm down, Martha. You have me here, and no one will dare to hurt you. I can get a new bodyguard for you. How about that? Now that you've gone viral, I don't think it's safe for you to patrol the streets on your own," Mr. Weston pointed out as he comforted me, still holding my hand.

The thought of having a bodyguard made me nervous. Could I handle it—the fame, the power that comes with being at the top? "I still have some unfinished work on my desk. Maybe you can wait for me to finish it first, then I will take you home," Mr. Weston's deep voice brought me back to reality as he let go of my arms.

We were standing close. His breath mingled with mine, and I felt flushed at his closeness and concern for me.

"Alright, sir. I will wait for you. I can wait in the lobby," I said, wanting to leave, but Mr. Weston's deep voice startled me.

"Martha, have you had dinner like I asked you to?" he inquired, his eyes locked on mine.

My cheeks flushed as heat rose to my neck. I had totally forgotten to eat when I left his office. I was used to starving.

"No, I forgot too," I replied with a blush. "I ran into Mark and Elena, and I lost my appetite and forgot about eating. I will do that now."

"Martha, should I place a ban on your stepsister and Mark from coming into this restaurant?" he asked, his voice cold but sincere.

"No need. The restaurant is open to everyone. I don't think they will cause a problem here," I responded, thinking it wasn't a good idea to chase Mark and Elena away. Keeping them close would still enable me to know what they were up to.

"Alright. What would you like to eat? Let me order it for you if you do not want to stay in the lobby," Mr. Weston said, reaching for his phone to contact Judith or one of the staff. I knew that would fuel the rumors that I was having a relationship with my boss, so I stopped him.

"I will get something to eat in the hall, sir. You should get back to work. I will wait for you to close," I replied, smiling. Mr. Weston looked at my face, and his shoulders relaxed as he said, "Alright. I won't take too long today."

I turned and left my boss's office. I didn't want him to leave his work for me. I had depended on him a lot.

"Are you sure you want to eat there? You can eat in my office. I won't be bothered," Mr. Weston's voice floated to my ear as I pulled the door open.

Looking back at his face, I responded, "Thank you, sir. I will join the patrons."

"Alright. Once you're through, you should wait for me. I will wrap up my work soon," he repeated as he settled into his office chair.

Drawing a deep breath, I strode out of the office. The hushed conversations of the other patrons filled the air.

When I looked over at Mark and Elena's table, I met his gaze on me. His brows furrowed to see me walking out of Mr. Weston's office.

As a staff member in the restaurant, even though I had closed from my afternoon duty, I sauntered to the server station and asked for my meal. The air was thick with the delicious smell of food, and my stomach grumbled.

"Martha, aren't you going home tonight? What's wrong?" one of the two servers asked me. Her name was Nora Declan. She was fair-skinned, tall, friendly, and a 27-year-old lady who had recently gotten engaged.

"I am not going home. I want to have my dinner first," I replied with a smile.

"Alright. I heard about your stepmother's arrest and how she maltreated you. She deserves to go to jail," Nora stated, her voice firm, and I smiled.

"Don't let her ruin your mood. I want yam porridge for dinner and catfish pepper soup," I requested.

"Got it. I will serve your request now," Nora replied. Her hands moved to pick up a plate, and she served my meal.

As I stood waiting for my meal, Benita returned to pick up a food request for other patrons. She muttered, "Shameless slut."

I knew Benita was referring to me. Her words didn't affect me, so I didn't bother to waste my breath on her. After all, she carried herself like a queen because she was chubby. She was irritated that Mr. Weston had left her—who had fuller hips and a bust—and wanted me instead.

I smiled at Nora as she said, "Here's your meal, Martha. Don't let cockroaches get under your skin." She laughed, and I did the same.

Carrying my food, I turned and went to find a seat, but I saw Mark and Elena were still eating. Their eyes were locked on me, probably wondering why I had returned.

My phone rang, and I picked it up to see that Bolu was calling me.

"Where are you, Martha? I have been trying to call you to no avail. You went viral—did you know that?" she asked, her voice laced with excitement.

As I ate my meal, the delicious taste soothed my abdomen.

"I knew," I replied, laughing softly. "I am still at the restaurant. You can come over if you are free."

"Alright. I will be there soon," Bolu said, and the call ended.

As I placed my phone on the table and continued eating, a man in a brown shirt and black trousers entered the restaurant. His gaze was cold as he marched up to meet me. I did not need anyone to tell me who he was. He was Mark's father.

"Dad," Mark called to him as he rose to his feet.

"I am not here to see you, Mark," his dad replied before turning his gaze to me. Then he strode further to meet me.

I braced myself as he approached, wondering what he wanted.