Chapter 18 The Confrontation
I stormed out of the room, my heart pounding with fury as I made my way toward the boardroom where Carlos was having his meeting. Each step down the stairs felt heavier than the last. I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done. Something was seriously wrong, Carlos was hiding something and I need answers—now.
When I reached the door, two guards stepped in front of me.
"Miss, you’re not allowed inside. Sir Carlos is in a confidential meeting."
"I don’t care. Move," I snapped, impatiently. I can’t wait any longer, I just want to meet him and know what’s going on
"I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in," One of them said firmly. "Please step back."
I didn’t waste time arguing. I pushed past them and walked straight into the room. Every head turned in my direction the moment I called Carlos’s name. He looked up at me, his expression unreadable. Without waiting, I held up the photos in my hand.
"What are these?" I demanded.
Carlos quickly stood from his chair, eyes locked on mine as he walked over. His voice was low, but the edge in it was unmistakable.
"Whatever it is, it can wait. Don’t cause a scene."
I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could speak, he growled silently "This is your first warning, don’t make me do something you’ll regret."
His gaze haunted my soul as he looked at me. He then turned to the room with a bright, fake smile. "Everyone, this is my lovely wife, Nala," He said, wrapping his arm around me tightly.
I stared at him, completely blindsided. His grip on my arm tightened, silently warning me to play along. I forced a smile.
"It’s nice to meet you all," I said through gritted teeth.
"Your wife?" a white-haired man asked, clearly surprised. "I had no idea you were married."
Carlos laughed lightly. "Yes, we kept it very private."
"Ohh, well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Nala," The man said with a nod.
I gave another forced smile, and then Carlos turned to me, still holding on tightly.
"I’m in the middle of something. We’ll talk later, right?" His words sounded like a suggestion, but the cold look in his eyes said otherwise.
He squeezed my arm again, and I flinched. "Yes," I whispered.
"Good. Wait for me outside. I’ll be with you shortly," He added, then leaned in and whispered, "I won’t repeat myself. Don’t you dare make a scene, or I’ll make sure you regret it."
He stepped back, smoothing my hair with an eerie calm. That smile on his face wasn’t warm—it was threatening.
I said nothing. I turned and walked out, clinging to the hope that he would keep his promise. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Carlos is dangerous. And when he’s crossed, he doesn’t hold back.
I stepped out of the room and stood in the hall, waiting for him. My heart was beating faster than usual, loud enough that I could feel it in my ears. Doubt crept in, wrapping itself around my thoughts like a slow, tightening rope. Maybe this was a mistake.
If Carlos had truly been following me for years, then none of this was real. Everything could have been a setup. Me meeting him, the murder I witnessed, the marriage. And maybe, just maybe, confronting him was the worst decision I could have made. What if it pushes him over the edge? What if he hurt me? Or worse?
The more I thought, the worse it got. My mind spun with a hundred scenarios, each darker than the last.
When Carlos finally walked out of the boardroom, I froze. He approached slowly, his eyes dragging up and down my body before stopping on my face.
"So…" He said, his tone unreadable.
"So what?" I replied quietly. I hated how small my voice sounded, and how afraid I suddenly felt.
He stared at me, waiting for me to speak. When I stayed silent, he turned to walk away.
I panicked. I couldn’t let him leave without answers. "What are my photos doing in your cupboard?"
He stopped and looked back at me, head tilted, brows furrowing slightly. "What are you talking about?"
I held the photo up for him to see. "These. My childhood photos. How did you get them?" My voice rose with emotion, but he didn’t even blink. He just stood there, watching me like I was some show he already knew the ending to.
I asked again, louder this time. "Are you not going to answer me?"
Carlos smiled. Not kindly. It was the kind of smile that meant trouble.
"Oh love, why are you so upset? It’s just a silly little thing."
"A silly thing?" I repeated, disbelief burning through me. "You have pictures of me that I don’t even remember taking. You have photos of me in places I don’t recall ever visiting. How is that a silly thing?"
He shrugged, his eyes fixed on me like I had just told a joke he didn’t find funny.
Exhaling, I spoke once more "What’s going on, Carlos? How did you get these photos? Have you been following me? Have you been watching me?" I demanded
"Yes," He said without hesitation as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world. "For a very long time."
I froze. For a moment, I thought I had misheard him. I wanted to believe I had. But the way he looked at me, calm, steady, completely unbothered, told me I hadn’t. Which only means that my thoughts were right.
He had been watching me.
Not since the marriage. Not since we met. But long before. When I was a child. Before I even knew his name.
But why? Why me?
Carlos took a slow step closer. His voice was smooth, almost gentle, but every word sliced through me.
"You’re more valuable than you think, Nala. That’s why I’m keeping you close, away from everyone else." Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.
And in that moment, everything shifted. A chill ran through me as the truth settled in. This was never about the murder I witnessed. There was something bigger at play, something hidden. Something about Carlos. Something about me.
If Carlos had truly been watching me since childhood, then I’m not just anyone. I’m someone important but who?