Chapter 74: Where were You

Five years.

Five years of 6am calls and cancelled holidays and knowing his coffee order and his migraine triggers and which calls to screen and which ones to put through immediately at any hour.

Five years of being indispensable, invisible, and completely taken for granted by a man who looked through her like glass.

And then her.

A cleaning girl. A nobody with a fake background and flour on her sleeve and grey eyes that Nathan couldn't stop—

Her phone rang.

She picked up before the second ring. "Hello."

"Well?" The voice on the other end was male. "How did the evening go?"

Jessica's jaw tightened. "It didn't go according to plan." She paused. "She showed up."

Silence.

"She showed up," the voice repeated.

"The grandmother liked her." Jessica pressed her fingers to her temple. "I tried to — there was an incident but it backfired. I'm sorry. She's more difficult to rattle than I—"

"Jessica."

She stopped talking immediately.

"I don't want your apologies." The warmth was completely gone now, whatever thin layer of it had existed. "I want results. That girl is not supposed to be in his life. She is not supposed to be anywhere near that family. You were given one simple function keep Nathan isolated, keep him focused, keep him away from anything that could make him feel–" he paused on the word like it tasted bad, "--human."

"I understand–"

"You understand nothing." His voice dropped lower. Not louder. Lower. "Do you know what happens when Nathan Kang feels something for someone? He protects them. And when he protects someone I cannot touch them. And when I cannot touch them—" another pause, "—I have to touch him instead. Is that what you want?"

Jessica said nothing.

"You are a disgusting failure," the man said. Cleanly. Without heat, which made it worse. "Fix it. Or I will find someone who will. And you know what happens to the people I replace."

The line went dead.

Jessica stood in the dark kitchen for a long moment. The phone still pressed to her ear. The dial tone going and going.

Then she lowered it slowly.

She had never met him in person. Not once. Only calls. Only that voice, smooth and cold, telling her what to do and when and how much it would cost her if she didn't.

He never explained himself. Not really. Just orders. Just the girl. Get rid of the girl. Keep Nathan away from the girl.

She had stopped asking why after the second time. The whole purpose he had put her in this position is because he feared someone will come back. He had never mentioned and Jessica believe this person is Lilly.

She set her phone on the counter and looked at her own reflection in the dark window for a long time.

Then she picked it back up and started scrolling.

She had to fix this. She had no idea who Lily is but seeing how severely the man wanted Lily out of the picture. She will do it.

Even if she had to get her hands dirty.

\---

Liora's POV

The penthouse was exactly how I remembered it. Which made sense because I had cleaned it even though it was halfway.

I stood in the middle of the living room and looked around slowly and whistled.

"You know," I said, "for a man with this much money the art choices are surprisingly boring."

Nathan shrugged his jacket off without looking at me. Laid it over the back of a chair. Started rolling up his sleeves, one then the other, slow and unbothered, my eyes met with his biceps that he seem to want to show off.

"The large one above the fireplace," I continued, gesturing at it. "What is that supposed to be."

"Art."

"It looks like someone spilled coffee and framed it."

"It cost four hundred thousand dollars."

I looked at it again. "Who did you upset when you bought that."

He glanced up at me then. Something moved at the corner of his mouth.

"Sit down, Lilly."

"I'm just saying. For four hundred thousand you could have bought actual food. Fed a small country." I dropped onto the couch and immediately regretted how comfortable it was. I sank in like it had been waiting for me. "This couch though. This couch I understand."

Nathan moved to the kitchen. I heard the quiet sound of cupboards. Glass on marble.

"Water or juice," he called.

"Do you have mango?"

A pause. "Yes."

"Then mango."

He came back with two glasses and sat across from me, sleeves rolled to the elbow, top button undone. He looked different like this. Less like a perfect ceo and more like a person.

I didn't say that out loud.

He set my glass on the coffee table and looked at me. "Where were you tonight."