Chapter 143 Find something juicy
~Hermes~
I’m just finishing the last note on the sticky pad—one of the personal reminders I have to write down before another memory lapse hits. My handwriting looks rushed, almost angry, but I can’t afford to forget again. Not today.
I glance at my watch, waiting for an update on the request I’d sent earlier. My thoughts are a haze of noise until—
"Mr. Grande?"
Vanessa’s voice cuts through as she pushes the door open slightly. "There seems to be some… commotion on the lower floor. At the CCO’s office."
My brows knit together. "What?"
She hesitates, scratching the side of her head. "Uhm—I think Miss Voss is… scolding June. I know it’s not exactly your concern but—"
"Do other employees know about this?" I interrupt, already standing.
Vanessa looks uneasy. "A few of them probably heard. It’s getting loud."
My pulse spikes. Natalya’s threat from last night flashes in my mind, and a curse slips through my teeth.
Did I even warn June about her? Or did I forget again?
I click my tongue hard in frustration. This damn condition—this curse—keeps costing me control. Keeps costing me her.
Without another word, I stride for the door.
By the time I reach the floor, a cluster of employees are already hovering near the hallway, whispering like flies drawn to chaos. My pulse spikes.
I spot Paul and call out, "Paul!"
He straightens immediately.
"Handle the employees. Now. I don’t want anyone standing around here."
He nods without question—oblivious to what’s brewing—and starts dispersing the onlookers.
I don’t wait. I push the door open to Natalya’s office.
The sight hits me like a punch. June’s cheek is flushed red, her fist trembling at her side, while Natalya stands opposite her, hands on her hips, ready for another round.
I exhale through my nose, forcing control. Then I shut the door, hard, the blinds follows, leaving no witnesses.
"What the hell is going on here, Natalya?" My voice comes out low, cold. "What did you do to her?"
She raises a brow, all mockery.
"‘What did I do?’" she repeats. "You really want to play that game, honey?"
"You’re violating company policy and power tripping over a subordinate," I snap, stepping closer.
She laughs—a cruel, humorless sound. "Oh please. You and I both know you’re the last person who should be preaching about rules."
She shifts her gaze to June, who’s still frozen beside me. "You really are still picking sides, aren’t you? Does she know, Hermes?"
I stiffen.
"Know what?" June cuts in, her voice shaking.
Natalya smirks, pulling her phone from her blazer pocket. "That I have evidence. Of your little illicit affair."
June’s eyes widen. "What? What evidence?"
Damn it. My stomach drops. I rub my temple, anger and dread colliding.
Of course. Of course I forgot to tell her.
Natalya presses play.
The video glows on her screen—a grainy clip, unmistakable in what it shows.
June’s breath hitches. She staggers back, choking on disbelief, and I lunge forward just in time to catch her.
"I’m so sorry, June," I whisper, gripping her arms, desperate. "I’ll fix this. I promise—"
But she jerks away, eyes glassy, betrayal cutting deeper than any slap ever could.
"Oops…" Natalya covers her mouth with feigned innocence, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Trouble in the love house?"
"Natalya," I grit out, voice low with warning, "stop what you’re doing."
She tilts her head. "Hermes, I won’t."
With calculated poise, she walks back to her chair and sits. "Let me explain something to you, intern," she says, her tone dripping venom as she turns to June.
"If this video—of you leaving the CEO’s hotel room—ever leaks, you’ll be the one facing the consequences. Hermes here?" She glances at me with a cruel grin. "He won’t even get a scratch. You’ll be ruined. And if this gets to your school, well… let’s just say your reputation will be buried before graduation."
June’s voice breaks the air, sharp and trembling. "Just tell me what you want!"
"First of all," Natalya says, her smile widening, "keep your tone down."
She crosses her legs, adjusting her skirt as if she’s discussing something mundane. "You’ll continue working as my assistant—until I feel like letting you go."
I stand there, hands clenched at my sides, every muscle locked with rage. I can’t move or fix this.
And for the hundredth time, I feel utterly, pathetically useless.
"Girl," Natalya continues, flicking invisible dust from her lap, "if you want to survive here, you’d better learn—you’re alone. Hermes won’t do a damn thing. His hands are tied… because of you."
"Nat—" I start, but June’s voice cuts through mine.
"What do you want me to do, Miss Voss?" she snaps, her voice raw. Then she points at me, her eyes blazing with hurt. "I’m done with him. Actually, he dumped me. So what more do you need?"
Natalya hums softly, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger. "I don’t know yet."
Then, casually, "For now… get me a milkshake. Off you go."
June’s voice is barely a whisper. "Yes, ma’am."
She turns and walks out, her steps unsteady but defiant.
And my heart… my god, it bleeds.
I don’t think—I just move, and follow her, ignoring the burning eyes of Natalya.
The hallway is now empty— thankfully. I catch her wrist gently before she rounds the corner and drag her toward the private elevator on the floor.
Inside the elevator, I say, "I’m sorry, June. I truly didn’t—"
"If you’re going to keep apologizing without doing anything, I suggest you just stop, Mr. Grande," she cuts in, her tone sharp, eyes fixed on the wall.
My lips hover, unsure how to reach her, unsure how to make this right.
"I’ll fix—"
"Please, don’t repeat that word," she snaps, finally meeting my gaze. "The more you keep saying it, the more everything escalates—and I’m the one who has to bear the consequences."
Her words hit like a whip. My hands clench, jaw tight. She’s damn right.
"You know… you caused this, right? You lied to me. You told me she was nobody. And then—boom—I see you’re engaged to her," she gestures wildly, her voice cracking. "Now I’m stuck in this mess. I hate you. I hate you. You’re… you’re like a curse to me."
Each word slams into me like a freight train, but I force my face to stay neutral. She doesn’t need to see me break. She’s right—every word she says cuts deep because it’s true.
Silence follows, her ragged breaths filling the elevator. Then the ding of the floor reaching our stop.
"Thanks for covering my shame from the other employees," she mutters and steps out.
As the doors close, rage and frustration boil over. I punch the elevator wall, leaning against it, fists tight.
No answer when I call Gavin.
Impatient, I decide to go to his firm myself.
I reach Gavin’s firm and barge into his office without knocking.
"What the—" Gavin mutters, eyes narrowing. "Hermes, what are you doing here?"
I ruffle my tie, sliding into the chair across from him. "Why aren’t you picking your phone? And what about the request I asked for?"
Gavin groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "So you want me to investigate your to-be wife like she’s some criminal? Stop messing with me, Hermes."
"I’m not playing." My voice drops, cold and final. "I need every little detail about her while she was in Ireland. She’s someone who can’t stay away from trouble—I know you’ll find something juicy for me."
Gavin blinks, skeptical. "Why do you want me to do that? She’s going to be your wife, remember? What’s the issue?"
I hiss, my patience snapping. "Gavin, I know you didn’t cut her off while the others did. You were still communicating with her. So stop acting clueless and get to work. I’ll explain the reason later."
Flustered, Gavin finally nods. "I’m sorry, man. Well, for starters… she wasn’t in Ireland. She was in Australia."
"What?" My brow furrows, shock and disbelief mixing in a tight line across my face.