NATALIE'S POV
"Her father's funeral. She just got word he's dead."
Elias's lie hangs in the air. My mouth opens but no sound comes out.
Adrian's eyes lock onto mine. "Your father died?"
I should correct this. Tell the truth. But Elias just gave me a way out, and my survival instinct kicks in.
"Yes," I whisper. "Just now. The text—it was from the hospital."
Adrian's expression shifts. The suspicion melts into something softer. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you," I manage to say, even though the words feel like acid in my throat.
Another lie. Another brick in the wall that will eventually crush me.
Adrian looks at Elias. "Give her tomorrow off. And the rest of this week if she needs it."
"That's not necessary—" I start.
"It wasn't a request." Adrian's tone is gentle but firm. "Go home, Natalie. Grieve. We'll talk when you're ready."
He turns and goes back into his office, closing the door behind him.
I stare at Elias. "Why did you—"
"Because I want answers first." He pulls out a business card and hands it to me. "Meet me tomorrow. Two PM. The address is on the back. Come alone, and come ready to tell me everything. If I like what I hear, your secret stays safe. If I don't..." He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't need to.
I take the card with numb fingers and watch him walk away.
My father isn't dead. But sometimes I wish he was.
ONE WEEK BEFORE THE INTERVIEW
The phone call came at two in the morning.
I was sitting on the floor of my apartment, surrounded by medical bills I couldn't pay. Mom had been gone for two weeks. The funeral had emptied my bank account. The debt collectors had started calling.
I didn't recognize the number, but I answered anyway. Maybe it was another hospital demanding money. Maybe it was a miracle. At that point, I would've taken either.
"Natalie?" A man's voice. Unfamiliar but somehow not.
"Who is this?"
"It's your father. Marcus Cross."
I almost dropped the phone.
Marcus Cross. The man who walked out when I was eight years old. Who left Mom to raise me alone while working three jobs. Who never sent birthday cards or child support or even a single explanation for why he abandoned us.
"How did you get this number?" My voice came out harsh, angry.
"I've been keeping track of you. I know about your mother. I'm so sorry, Natalie. Rebecca was a good woman."
"Don't." I stood up, shaking with rage. "Don't you dare say her name. You have no right."
"I know. You're right. I don't deserve to talk to you. But I had to call because I can help you."
I laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. "Help me? Where were you when Mom was dying? Where were you when we lost our apartment because she couldn't work anymore? Where were you for eighteen years?"
"I was trying to survive. After what they did to me—to us—I had nothing left. I've been living in hiding, trying to rebuild, trying to find a way to make things right."
"What are you talking about?"
Silence on the other end. Then: "You don't know, do you? Your mother never told you."
"Told me what?"
"Why I left. Why I had to disappear." His voice dropped lower. "We had a good life once, Natalie. A family business. Money. Security. And then Adrian Steele's father destroyed it all."
My heart started pounding. "What?"
"The Steeles. They sabotaged my company, stole my clients, ruined me financially. I tried to fight back legally, but they had lawyers I couldn't afford. I lost everything. The business, our house, our savings. I couldn't face you and your mother after failing you so completely. So I ran."
I sank back down to the floor. "That's your excuse? You ran away because you were embarrassed?"
"It was more than embarrassment. It was shame. Humiliation. Depression. I was a coward, and I've regretted it every day since." He paused. "But now I have a chance to make it right. To get back what they took from us. And I can help you in the process."
"How?"
"Adrian Steele is looking for a new personal assistant. The pay is incredible—more than enough to clear your debt in a year. I have connections that could get you an interview."
My mind raced. "Why would you help me get a job with the son of the man who supposedly destroyed you?"
"Because I need someone on the inside. Someone I can trust. Adrian Steele built his empire on the ruins of what he stole from me. He's hiding something—illegal deals, offshore accounts, evidence of the crimes his father committed. If you can find that evidence, we can expose him. We can get justice and compensation for what his family did to ours."
"You want me to spy on him."
"I want you to help me prove the truth. These people destroyed our family, Natalie. They're the reason I wasn't there for you. They're the reason your mother struggled her whole life. They're the reason you're drowning in debt right now."
I looked around my tiny apartment. At the bills. At the eviction notice on my counter. At the empty bottle of wine I'd finished alone.
"Even if I wanted to help you—which I don't—why would he hire me? I'm nobody."
"You're perfect for what he's looking for. Young, smart, desperate enough to work the brutal hours he demands. And..." He hesitated. "You look like your mother. Rebecca was beautiful. Men like Adrian Steele notice that."
Disgust rolled through me. "You want me to use my looks to manipulate him?"
"I want you to use every advantage you have. This isn't just about revenge, Natalie. This is about survival. Your survival. How long before they evict you? How long before the debt collectors take legal action? How long before you're homeless and bankrupt?"
Tears burned my eyes because he was right. I was barely holding on.
"If I do this," I said slowly, "and I'm not saying I will—what exactly would you want me to find?"
"Evidence of fraud. Illegal business practices. Anything that proves the Steeles built their empire through crime. And access to his private accounts—to prove he's hiding money that should've been ours."
"That's illegal. What you're asking me to do is illegal."
"What they did to me was illegal. They just had enough money to cover it up." His voice hardened. "They stole our future, Natalie. I'm just asking you to help me take it back."
I sat there in the darkness of my apartment, torn between hatred for this man who abandoned me and desperation for a way out of the nightmare my life had become.
"I need to think about it."
"You have three days. The interview is scheduled for early next week if you want it. After that, the position will be filled, and your chance—our chance—will be gone forever."
He hung up before I could respond.
I stared at my phone for a long time. Then I looked at the medical bills again. At the funeral expenses. At the notice saying I had thirty days to vacate my apartment.
At the life my mother had sacrificed everything to give me, now crumbling to dust.
Three days later, I called Marcus back and said yes.
Two days after that, I walked into Adrian Steele's office for my interview.
And now, six months later, I'm standing in a hallway with a head of security who knows my secret and a boss who thinks my father is dead.
The web of lies is tightening around me. And I don't know how to escape without destroying everything—including myself.
My phone buzzes. Another text from Marcus.
FATHER: Friday. Don't forget. This is your last chance.
But there's a second message right below it that makes my blood freeze.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I know what you're doing to Adrian. Stop now, or I'll tell him everything you've been hiding. You have 24 hou
rs to decide.
Someone else knows my secret.
And they're coming for me.