Chapter 48 Forty Eight
The door creaked open moments later.
Antonia felt it before she saw it. The subtle shift in the air, the tightening in her chest, the instinctive dread that crawled up her spine.
Footsteps.
Measured. Familiar.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” a male voice said calmly. “Traffic was...”
The words stopped.
So did her breath.
Kennedy Walton stood just inside the conference room.
Tall. Impeccably dressed. Controlled in the way only men like him ever were. Men who had learned how to wear power like a second skin. His suit jacket was perfectly tailored, his hair neatly styled, his expression composed in that familiar, unreadable way that had once made Antonia's heart skip.
And then his eyes landed on her.
The world fractured.
For a split second, just one, his mask slipped.
His eyes widened, haunted, disbelief flashing across his face so nakedly that it nearly stole Antonia’s breath. The room seemed to tilt, memories crashing into her all at once: the late nights, restrained touches, the silence after his message, the life she had rebuilt brick by brick after walking away from him.
Kennedy Walton was staring at Antonia Adams.
Alive.
Here.
Engaged to another man.
His jaw tightened almost immediately as he composed himself, years of discipline snapping back into place. His face smoothed, expression cool once more, as though that moment of shock had never existed.
Antonia, however, felt like she was drowning.
Her fingers trembled where they rested against Austin’s hand. Her heart pounded so violently she was sure everyone could hear it.
Priscillia rose slightly from her chair. “Kennedy,” she said warmly, oblivious, or pretending to be. “You’re just in time.”
“Apologies again, mother,” Kennedy replied smoothly, already moving toward the table. “Good afternoon.”
He didn’t look at Antonia again.
Not yet.
“This is Mr. Austin,” Priscillia continued, gesturing toward him. “Our prospective manager.”
Kennedy nodded politely, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Austin stood, shaking his hand firmly. “Likewise, sir.”
“And this,” Priscillia added, her tone pointed as her gaze flicked briefly to Antonia, “is his fiancée.”
Antonia felt every cell in her body revolt at the word.
Kennedy turned then.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
His eyes met hers fully this time.
The room faded.
It was just the two of them now, locked in a moment so heavy it threatened to crush her.
So many questions burned in his gaze.
Why are you here?
Why him?
Why now?
Antonia’s throat tightened painfully. She forced herself to hold his gaze, even as her heart shattered all over again.
She didn’t look away.
She wouldn’t.
“Antonia,” Priscillia said, prompting.
Kennedy blinked, his composure tightening like armor snapping shut. “Nice to meet you,” he said coolly.
The lie cut deep.
“Likewise,” Antonia replied, her voice steady only because she willed it to be.
Kennedy took his seat beside his mother, crossing one leg over the other with controlled ease. If not for the tension in his jaw, one might have believed he was completely unaffected.
But Antonia saw it.
She always had.
The HR Manager cleared her throat again. “Shall we proceed?”
“Yes,” Priscillia said briskly. “Let’s.”
The meeting continued.
On the surface, everything went smoothly.
Austin spoke confidently about operational restructuring, staff management, cost efficiency. He answered every question with clarity and assurance, his passion for the industry evident in every word.
Kennedy listened.
Watched.
Antonia felt his gaze on her more than once, even when she pretended to study the framed mission statement on the wall. Each time their eyes met, it was brief, but electric.
Loaded.
Unfinished.
At one point, when Austin was explaining his approach to supplier negotiations, Antonia glanced up and found Kennedy staring at her stomach.
Her heart lurched.
His expression shifted, confusion, calculation, something darker.
She broke eye contact immediately, her hand instinctively moving to rest protectively over her belly.
He can never know it is his.
Austin noticed the movement and smiled, squeezing her hand gently beneath the table.
Kennedy noticed too.
The subtle intimacy.
The claim.
His jaw tightened again.
Priscillia asked questions occasionally, sharp and perceptive. She remained composed, but Antonia sensed the undercurrent beneath her calm exterior.
She was watching.
Measuring.
Connecting dots.
This wasn’t just about a job anymore.
This was personal.
“And when would you be available to start?” Priscillia asked Austin near the end.
“Immediately,” Austin replied. “I’m fully committed.”
Priscillia nodded. “Good.”
Kennedy finally spoke again. “You mentioned restructuring staff shifts,” he said. “How do you plan to maintain morale during that transition?”
Austin responded smoothly, but Antonia barely heard the words.
Kennedy’s voice, controlled, familiar, sent a tremor through her.
She hadn’t heard it in months.
When the meeting finally concluded, Antonia felt like she had run a marathon she hadn’t trained for.
Priscillia closed her folder neatly. “Mr. Austin, we’ll finalize paperwork by the end of the week.”
Austin exhaled softly, relief evident. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’ve done well,” she added.
Then her gaze shifted to Antonia again.
“And Antonia,” Priscillia said thoughtfully, “it would be lovely to speak with you again.”
Antonia stiffened. “Of course.”
Priscillia smiled faintly. “In fact… why don’t you both join us for dinner?”
The words dropped like a bomb.
Austin blinked. “Dinner?”
“Yes,” Priscillia continued, standing. “At my home. It would be nice to get to know you better, outside of a professional setting.”
Antonia’s pulse skyrocketed.
Kennedy’s head snapped toward his mother. “Mom...”
Priscillia waved him off gently. “Kennedy, it’s perfectly appropriate. Mr. Austin is joining our organization. Him and his fiancée are family.”
Family.
The word rang in Antonia’s ears like a cruel echo.
“I’ll send the details to you,” Priscillia said to Austin, smiling pleasantly. “Soon.”
Austin glanced at Antonia, then back at Priscillia. “We’d be honored.”
Antonia forced a smile, her insides screaming.
“Wonderful,” Priscillia said.
Kennedy said nothing.
They walked out then, Antonia and Austin, hand in hand, under the gaze of Kennedy and his mother.
As the elevator doors closed, Antonia realized with a sickening certainty that agreeing to pretend had just dragged her back into the one world she had fought so hard to escape.
And dinner at Priscillia Walton’s house would not be polite.
It would be explosive.