Chapter 26 Elliot

Chapter 26 Elliot
Sleep had become a stranger to me.

For three straight nights, I tossed and turned, haunted by a face I couldn’t get out of my head.
Her face.
Nessa’s.

Everything about her gnawed at me, her calmness, the way she carried herself, even the tone of her voice. She reminded me too damn much of Vanessa. The same quiet grace. The same gentle fire hidden beneath poise.

And the worst part? The scent of her perfume.
Soft. Floral.
Exactly the one Vanessa used to wear.

I had convinced myself I was imagining it, that I was projecting because I missed the woman I had destroyed, but every time Nessa walked into my office, that same ache burned in my chest.

Today was no different.

She knocked once, precise as always, and entered, holding a stack of files.
“Here are the quarterly reports you requested,” she said, setting them down neatly on my desk.

Her tone was clipped and professional, but I could see the faint tremor in her hand as she placed the last file.
I noticed everything.

“You’re quiet today,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

Her eyes flickered up to mine, deep blue, sharp, unreadable.
“Am I usually talkative, sir?”

That caught me off guard. I smirked slightly. “Fair point.”

She turned to leave, but I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. “Nessa.”

She froze for a second, so small I almost missed it. Then she faced me again.
“Yes, Mr. Hayes?”

I studied her face carefully. The longer I stared, the stronger the pull in my gut became.
“Where did you work before coming here?”

Her expression didn’t change, but I saw it, the tiniest flicker in her eyes.
“I worked in Canada,” she replied evenly. “Mostly consulting. Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity,” I said, forcing a smile. “You seem very familiar.”

Her lips curved slightly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I get that a lot.”

Then she turned and walked out.

The door closed softly, but I didn’t move. My pulse was hammering.
She was lying. I didn’t know how I knew, but I just did.
And that voice, when she said I get that a lot, carried the same edge Vanessa had whenever she was angry but trying to stay composed.

I rubbed my temples.
“Get a grip, Elliot,” I muttered. “She’s not Vanessa.”
Vanessa was gone.

And yet…

Later that evening, I drove to the company’s hotel suite, the one I stayed in whenever I needed space from Bernice’s constant chaos.
I poured myself a glass of whiskey and opened my laptop to review Nessa’s file again.

Her records were clean, too clean.
Education, work history, references, all perfect. Almost artificially perfect.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” I said absently.

Ronald, my CFO, stepped in holding a tablet. “Sir, you asked me to run a background check on your new secretary?”

“Yes.” I straightened. “Did you find anything?”

He hesitated. “Well, nothing unusual, except…” He swiped through the tablet. “Her employment record before Canada doesn’t add up. The company she supposedly worked for, Luxe Dynamics, was shut down three years ago. But her reference letter is dated just last year.”

My grip on the glass tightened. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, sir, that the letter was forged.”

I stared at him for a long moment. “You’re certain?”

“Yes, sir.”

My mind went blank for a second. Forged records.
So she wasn’t who she said she was.

“Leave the file,” I said flatly.

When Ronald left, I sat there in silence.
Was it possible? Could it really be her?

No. It couldn’t.
Vanessa was gone. The investigators said she never even left the airport.

But if she was alive, if she had somehow come back, would she do it like this?
Come back under a new name. Work for me. Pretend like nothing ever happened?

My pulse quickened.

I opened my laptop again and zoomed in on her employment photo. Her hair was different, her eyes a different color, but the bone structure, the shape of her mouth, the same.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

It was her.
It had to be her.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand down my face.
What the hell was she doing? What game was she playing?

If it really was Vanessa, then she had walked straight back into my life, and I wasn’t going to let her slip away this time.

Not until I got the truth.

I reached for my phone and dialed a number.

“Mr. Hayes?” came the voice on the other end.

“I need you to follow someone,” I said. “Discreetly. Her name is Nessa Adams. I want to know everything, where she goes, who she meets, what she hides.”

“Understood, sir.”

I hung up and leaned back, staring out the window.
The city lights shimmered far below, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

Vanessa Hayes, if you’re really alive, I’ll find you.
And this time, you won’t get away so easily.