Chapter 3

3.

I didn't sleep a wink.

The next day at the office, the girl was already at her new desk.

She looked even more innocent than she had in the private room.

But her work skills were a complete disaster.

During the morning meeting, she couldn't even figure out how to operate the basic slideshow, and her meeting notes looked like a child's diary.

Julian was notoriously strict with his staff, known for his cold professionalism.

But with Ruby, he was endlessly patient.

I held my tongue until the meeting was over, then followed Julian to his office to discuss a new project.

Ruby brought me a cup of coffee.

Her hand trembled, and scalding hot coffee spilled all over my wrist, instantly raising a blister.

The important documents on the desk were soaked.

I couldn't take it anymore. "What is wrong with you?"

She slammed the coffee pot down.

Without a word, her face was a mask of defiance and stubbornness, as if she were the victim.

"Don't you think you owe me an apology?" I asked calmly.

Her eyes turned red and she snapped, "It was an accident! Why do you have to humiliate me? Just because you're rich doesn't mean you can bully people."

This, I supposed, was the "unpretentious" quality he admired so much.

And the look in Julian's eyes was one of pure admiration.

I was about to lose it, but he grabbed my hand, running to her defense.

"She's young, she doesn't have much work experience. How about I apologize to you on her behalf, okay?"

My heart stuttered. I coldly pulled my hand away.

After our meeting, I was about to leave.

Julian suddenly cleared his throat twice. "I have a dinner thing tonight. You go on home, don't wait up for me."

I knew him too well.

That little cough was his tell right before he lied.

"Alright."

Back in my own office, I had HR look up Ruby's social media accounts.

Sure enough, just after 8 p.m., Ruby posted an update.

And Julian was in her photo.

They were at a cheap fast-food joint in Brooklyn.

On the table were greasy, spicy chicken wings and two cheap milkshakes.

This was a man who was so particular he only drank coffee made from specially selected beans.

And now he was drinking a four-dollar cup of artificial sweetener.

I clicked on Ruby's profile.

Almost every one of her few posts was a veiled reference to Julian.

[Twenty years old today, and someone got me my very first pair of high heels! But I still like my canvas sneakers better.]

[Someone’s first time at a fast-food place. He frowned the whole time but still peeled my shrimp for me!]

The more I read, the tighter my chest became.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number.

It was my father, Frank, fresh out of prison.

[Lilia, you need to help me. You think you can just live the high life in New York and forget where you came from?]

[If my life is shit, I'm gonna make sure yours is too!]

[Give me five million, and I'll keep your dirty little secret.]

I didn't reply. I just deleted the message, my hands shaking.

I suddenly remembered the bet Julian and Preston made at the club.

They were betting on how long it would take for my world to come crashing down.

My father was a ticking time bomb.

Sooner or later, he was going to explode.

But I was done living in fear.

So, I would be the one to light the fuse.

Julian didn't get home until early the next morning, mumbling some excuse about an all-night meeting.

But I'd already seen it on Ruby's social media.

There was no meeting. He’d driven her to hike a mountain upstate to watch the stars and the sunrise.