Chương 5
I imagined anger.
I imagined shouting.
I imagined finally saying every cruel thing I had swallowed.
But when the moment actually came, all I felt was exhaustion.
Alexander drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting near the center console.
He didn’t fill the silence.
That was one of the things I was beginning to understand about him.
He wasn’t quiet because he had nothing to say.
He was quiet because he respected the space other people needed.
My phone buzzed several times before I looked at it.
The screen was filled with messages.
Some were from relatives.
Some were from people I barely spoke to.
Some were from numbers I didn’t recognize.
The family group chat had exploded.
I opened it once.
Then closed it.
I wasn’t ready to see strangers debate my pain like it was a topic at a dinner party.
“You don’t have to read those,” Alexander said.
I looked over.
“How did you know?”
“You made the same face you make when you’re about to open something you don’t want to see.”
I frowned.
“What face?”
He smiled slightly.
“The one where you pretend you’re not nervous.”
I looked out the window.
“That’s annoying.”
“It’s accurate.”
I wanted to argue.
Instead, I laughed quietly.
It was strange how easily he could make me forget that the entire foundation of my life had shifted in one evening.
The restaurant Alexander took me to was not somewhere I expected.
It wasn’t a place with white tablecloths or people whispering about celebrities.
It was a small Italian restaurant tucked between two businesses on a quiet street.
The owner greeted him by name.
Not because he was famous.
Because he came there often.
That surprised me.
I had expected someone like Alexander Hayes to live surrounded by luxury.
Instead, he knew the waitress’s daughter had started college and asked about the broken oven in the kitchen.
He noticed ordinary things.
That made him feel less like a billionaire and more like a person.
We sat in a corner booth.
For a few minutes, we talked about nothing important.
The food.
The terrible holiday music playing near the entrance.
The fact that the restaurant had somehow run out of one of its most popular desserts.
It felt almost normal.
Almost.
Then Alexander placed his glass down.
“You should know something.”
I looked at him.
“About what?”
“The folder.”
My stomach tightened.
I had spent the entire drive trying not to think about it.
“I don’t know if I want to know.”
“That’s fair.”
He paused.
“But you deserve to.”
I waited.
“I didn’t investigate your family because of the company.”
I studied his face.
“Then why?”
He looked down for a moment.
That hesitation was unusual.
Alexander Hayes did not seem like someone who struggled to answer questions.
“Because of you.”
The words should have sounded romantic.
Instead, they made me nervous.
“Why?”
He leaned back.
“Do you remember three months ago when you reviewed the merger documents for Hayes Financial?”
I searched my memory.
My work involved hundreds of reports.
Thousands of pages.
“I reviewed a lot of documents.”
“You found an accounting error.”
I frowned.
“That was part of my job.”
“No.”
His voice was calm.
“That was what made it different.”
I waited.
“Everyone else saw numbers.”
He tapped his finger lightly against the table.
“You saw the person affected by the numbers.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
At work, I had done what I always did.
I paid attention.
I looked deeper.
I questioned things that didn’t make sense.
It was the same habit that had gotten me punished by my family.
Apparently, somewhere else, it had made someone notice me.
“I asked my team to look into your background,” Alexander continued.
My expression changed.
“You investigated me?”
“Yes.”
The honesty surprised me.
Most people would have softened the word.
They would have said researched.
Reviewed.
Checked.
He used investigated.
“I know that sounds terrible.”
“It does.”
“I wasn’t trying to control you.”
“Then what were you trying to do?”
He looked directly at me.
“Understand why someone that talented was still convinced she had to apologize for taking up space.”
The answer hit harder than I expected.
I looked away.
Nobody had ever described me that accurately.
Not even me.
“How long have you known about my family?”
“About six weeks.”
I turned back.
“Six weeks?”
“Yes.”
“And you never said anything?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed proof.”
That answer bothered me.
Not because it was wrong.
Because it was practical.
“You knew my family had destroyed my life, and you just waited?”
His expression changed.
A small crack appeared in his confidence.
“I knew if I came to you with accusations, you might defend them.”
I opened my mouth.
Then stopped.
Because he was right.
Five years ago, I would have.
Even after everything.
I would have found a way to explain their behavior.
“They were my family,” I said.
“I know.”
His voice softened.
“And that is exactly why I waited.”
The waiter arrived with our food.
Neither of us spoke until he walked away.
The interruption was oddly helpful.
Real life rarely allowed dramatic conversations to happen perfectly.
Sometimes someone needed to refill a water glass.
Sometimes a phone rang.
Sometimes food arrived at the wrong moment.
After a few minutes, I picked up my fork.
“I don’t understand one thing.”
“What?”
“Why are you involved with Whitmore Industries at all?”
Alexander’s expression became serious.
“That is the part you need to hear.”
Something in his tone made me put my fork down.
“I bought your father’s debt.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know why.”
I waited.
“Whitmore Industries is not worthless.”
I frowned.
“But you said—”
“I said your father’s company will fail under his leadership.”
The distinction mattered.
“Then why buy the debt?”
“Because someone else was preparing to buy it.”
“Who?”
He looked toward the window.
“A private investment group.”
May you like
I felt confused.
“Isn’t that normal?”
