Chapter 8: Chapter 7 Five Years Didn’t Erase Him
Did he talk to Helix? Did he investigate me? Does he know about Anastelle? Does he know she’s Helix’s daughter?
angry, and he wasn’t glaring. He was completely calm, patient, just sitting there waiting for my reaction. That was a thousand times worse than anger. It meant he was completely in control of the room, and he knew it.
I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat. Denying it would only make me look guilty.
"How do you know I have a daughter?"
"Your daughter’s school called yesterday afternoon," he said smoothly.
I stared at him, my mind scrambling to catch up.
"You left your phone on your desk when you ran to the restroom. Two missed calls from a local preschool and a text notification asking for Signora Brenner to pick up her child. Since I don’t tolerate mysterious emergencies that tank my logistics manifests, I took ten seconds to look at your emergency contact information in your employee file. Giulia Valli is listed as your primary co-signer."
Okay.....That was reasonable.
Yet, it was somehow terrifying. It meant he didn’t just look past my desk—he actively mapped out the details of my life the second a single piece didn’t fit into his puzzle. He noticed everything.
He returned to his contract as if he hadn’t just given me a mild heart attack.
"If you need time off to handle your daughter’s health, ask for it," he said casually, his eyes fixed on the paper.
I froze, completely shocked. Before a single grateful word could escape my lips, he interrupted.
"Sick employees are inefficient, Miss Brenner. Distracted employees are worse," he added, "I am paying for an executive assistant, not a ghost who stares at her phone twelve times in a quarter-hour. Keep her healthy so you can keep my calendar straight."
There it was. Classic Laziel. But underneath the facade, he had still given me the green light to take care of my kid.
"I should get back to work."
"Of course."
I reached for the door handle.
"How old is she?" The question came out of nowhere.
I hesitated.
Laziel’s pen paused. He noticed the delay.
"Four," I finally answered.
"Four is an interesting age," he murmured, "Old enough to ask difficult questions..... Children usually want to know about their fathers around that age."
H...how did he know?
Before I could stop myself, my fingers tightened around the folder in my hands.
"You’re still standing here, Miss Brenner."
I walked out of his office on unsteady legs.
Only after the elevator doors closed did I realize I was shaking.
Because I couldn’t tell what terrified me more.
The possibility that Laziel Monroe knew my secret.
Or the possibility that he didn’t know anything at all—and I was exposing myself with every panicked reaction.
I ran straight to the bathroom, locked the door, and splashed cold water on my face.
Get it together, I told myself, grabbing a paper towel. He doesn’t know anything. He’s just an observant bastard fishing for reaction. If you keep panicking, you’re going to give yourself away.
I fixed my blazer, took a deep breath, and walked back to my desk. Through the glass wall, I could see Laziel. He was staring at his screen, completely ignoring me, which was exactly what I needed.
I sat down and started typing. I just needed to look busy.
At exactly 2:15 p.m., the office line rang. The screen showed an international number routing straight from the New York headquarters.
My stomach completely dropped. I picked up the headset and forced out my professional voice. "Office of the Executive Vice President, Milan. How can I help you?"
"Hello? Is anyone actually awake over there?"
The voice made me freeze instantly.
Five years. It had been five years of running, hiding, and trying to survive in Italy, but I would know that voice anywhere.
Helix.
He sounded exactly the same. Rude, impatient, and so arrogant.
"Hello? Are you deaf?" Helix snapped. "I said put Laziel on. I don’t have time to play games."
I couldn’t even speak. My throat was completely dry as I stared through the glass wall. But then reality hit me.
He didn’t recognize my voice at all.
Of course he didn’t. To Helix Monroe, I wasn’t the mother of his child. I was just a waitress he used and threw away. A guy who slept with that many women wouldn’t remember the voice of a girl he dumped.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice flat. "Mr. Monroe is in the middle of a review, sir. I can transfer you to his line."
"Then do it instead of telling me his schedule," Helix barked. "And tell him to actually pick up this time."
I didn’t answer him. I just hit the transfer button and shoved the call through to Laziel’s office.
I watched through the glass as Laziel’s desk phone buzzed. He let it ring twice, looking completely annoyed before he finally picked up.
"I told you not to call this line, Helix," Laziel said.
I couldn’t hear what Helix was saying, but Laziel suddenly looked up. His dark blue eyes locked straight onto me. He watched me as I tried to pretend I was sorting through papers.
"The European routes are mine," Laziel said flatly into the phone. "Keep your luxury transport teams in Manhattan. I don’t report to you."
There was a pause.
"My assistant is competent enough to handle the work without your input," Laziel muttered, clenching his jaw. "Fix your own scheduling disasters before you comment on mine. We’re done."
He slammed the phone down, and went right back to his work, leaving me sitting there trying to process the fact that the father of my daughter had just called my office line.