Chapter 117 Investigating
Timothy
I know she’s lying.
The moment Hannah says she’ll be “busy,” I know.
It’s not even subtle.
The way her eyes don’t quite meet mine. The tightness in her smile. The slight hesitation before she answers.
It’s all there.
Clear as day.
And yet—
I let it go.
I shouldn’t.
I want to press.
I want to ask.
What’s wrong?
Why are you pulling away again?
But I don’t.
Because I already know what will happen if I do.
She’ll retreat further.
Put up those walls.
Shut me out completely.
And I’m already walking a thin line as it is.
So I nod.
Say okay.
Pretend I believe her.
Even when I don’t.
She leaves the dining room not long after, and I watch her go, my jaw tightening slightly.
Something is wrong.
I just don’t know what.
And that—
That bothers me more than it should.
I exhale slowly and look back down at my plate.
Finish the rest of breakfast without tasting any of it.
By the time I’m done, the dining room feels too quiet.
Too empty.
I push my chair back and stand.
For a moment, I hesitate.
I should tell Lisa something.
Let her know…
If Hannah asks…
“I’ll be back for dinner,” I start to say.
But the words don’t fully form.
Because I don’t know if that’s true.
Today’s schedule is packed.
Unpredictable.
And the last thing I want is to make a promise I won’t keep.
So instead….
I say nothing.
I grab my jacket and leave.
The drive to work is quiet.
Too quiet.
I lean back in my seat, staring out the window as the city moves around me.
People.
Cars.
Noise.
Life.
Usually, it helps.
Grounds me.
But today….
My thoughts keep drifting.
Back to her.
The way she looked this morning.
Distracted.
Distant.
And then….
Last night.
The way she came to me without hesitation.
The way she melted into my arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.
My jaw tightens.
Something has shifted.
Again.
And I don’t know where it leaves us.
I exhale sharply and force myself to focus as the car pulls up to the office.
Work.
That’s what I need.
Structure.
Control.
Something that makes sense.
I step out and head inside.
The familiar rhythm of the building greets me immediately.
Voices.
Footsteps.
Routine.
I walk straight to my office.
Open the door…
And stop.
Rowan is already there.
Sitting like he owns the place.
“Morning,” he says casually.
Like nothing is off.
Like nothing has been off.
I study him for a second.
Too relaxed.
Too normal.
It’s almost convincing.
Almost.
“Morning,” I reply, equally neutral.
If he’s going to act like everything is fine…
So will I.
I don’t mention his absence.
His attitude yesterday.
The tension.
Not yet.
Instead, I walk in, set my things down, and we get straight to work.
Files.
Numbers.
Discussions.
It’s efficient.
Focused.
Professional.
Exactly how it should be.
At some point, I call in my secretary.
She steps in promptly.
“Yes, sir?”
I hand her a small folded paper.
“Have this done,” I say simply.
She nods.
Takes it.
Leaves.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch it.
Rowan’s gaze.
Following the paper.
Not casually.
Not idly.
With interest.
My fingers still slightly on the desk.
I don’t react.
Don’t call it out.
But I note it.
Carefully.
Later…
When she’s gone…
Rowan leans back slightly.
“What was that about?” he asks, tone light.
I shrug.
“Nothing important.”
He watches me for a second longer than necessary.
Then nods.
Lets it go.
At least on the surface.
We continue working.
Eventually, we head out for a meeting.
One that drags on for hours.
Negotiations.
Back and forth.
Numbers thrown around.
Arguments dressed as discussions.
By the time it ends, I’m mentally drained.
But composed.
Always composed.
I linger behind briefly to speak with a few people.
Wrap things up.
Then step out into the hallway.
And pause.
Rowan is leaning over my secretary’s desk.
Too close.
Too relaxed.
That familiar charming smile on his face.
She looks slightly flustered.
Then she sees me.
Straightens immediately.
Rowan steps back just as smoothly.
Like nothing happened.
“Mr. Blackwood,” she says quickly, gathering herself before walking off.
I watch her go.
Then look at Rowan.
“What was that?”
He shrugs.
“Relax. I was just asking for her number.”
I stare at him.
Flat.
Unimpressed.
“You don’t ask my staff for their numbers.”
He lifts a brow.
“Didn’t know that was a rule.”
“It is now.”
He huffs out a small laugh.
“Noted, boss.”
There’s that tone again.
Light.
But edged.
I don’t push it.
Not here.
Not now.
We part ways shortly after.
He heads off.
I head outside.
The car is waiting.
I slide in.
The door shuts.
For a moment, I just sit there.
Then I pull out my phone.
Scroll.
Find the number.
And call.
It rings once.
Twice.
Then…
“Yeah?”
“I need you to look into something,” I say without preamble.
I give him the details.
The names.
The situation my father mentioned.
“Dig deep,” I add. “I want everything.”
“Got it.”
The line ends.
I lean back again.
The driver glances at me through the mirror.
“Where to, sir?”
I hesitate.
Just for a second.
Work again?
Stay out?
Avoid the house?
Avoid…
Her?
My jaw tightens.
Then…
“Home,” I say.
The drive back is quiet.
I zone out.
Mind drifting.
Between business.
Between Hannah.
Between things that don’t quite connect but feel like they will.
Eventually…
The car slows.
Stops.
“We’re here, sir.”
I blink.
Look up.
Then frown.
There’s a car in the driveway.
One I don’t recognize.
My eyes narrow slightly.
Who…
At this hour?
I step out.
Walk toward the house.
Push the door open.
Step inside…
Voices.
From the living room.
I move toward them.
And then I see her.
Hannah.
Standing there.
Talking to someone.
My steps slow.
The man turns.
And when I see his face….
Everything inside me stills.
Then tightens.
A slow smile spreads across his lips.
Too familiar.
Too easy.
“Hello, brother,” he says.
My jaw clenches.
I stop completely.
Every muscle in my body going rigid.
Of course.
Of all people.
“Missed me?” he adds casually.
I stare at him.
Masking the surprise.
The irritation.
The immediate distrust.
My voice comes out calm.
Controlled.
“Donald,” I say.
A beat.
“What a surprise.”