Francisco got ready for his important meeting with sharp focus. He spritzed on cologne and buttoned his sleeves.
He opened a drawer and pulled out a USB hidden inside a plain-looking book.
Francisco plugged the pen drive into his laptop. His eyes scanned the screen as detailed files loaded. Each document carried critical information... plans, schematics, data. Papers lay scattered across the desk, notes scribbled, every item placed with intention.
Five days passed.
During that time, something changed between Hazel and Francisco. The relationship between them grew warmer, more familiar.
Francisco still didn't allow her to go to the office or accompany him outside.
Each day, Hazel cooked for him. And while she moved through the mansion, she used every spare moment to explore it... quietly, cautiously. Though she knew the code to his room, she avoided going. The risk of being caught on camera was too high.
But that night, if Francisco prepared to leave for Georgia, Hazel knew it was her last chance.
Hazel prepared a spicy dinner... one final meal before his departure. Francisco was on a call. She threw him a quick glance, determined.
She placed the file on the table. Over the last few days, she had been quietly collecting information... details that hinted at Francisco's possible illegal activities.
Now, she had already tipped off the authorities.
Tonight would trigger everything.
While Francisco kept talking on the phone, Hazel walked to his suitcase and helped straighten his clothes.
Then she heard it.
"I will be in Texas, and my man will be in Georgia," Francisco said into the phone.
Hazel's heart skipped a beat. She stayed quiet, listening carefully, knowing that every word could be the missing piece to her plan.
"I will call you at the right time."
As Francisco continued assuring the person on the other end of the line, Hazel stood nearby, dressed in a stunning white frock.
Francisco watched her as she busied herself with his bags, a storm of thoughts flickering across his face.
I thought you'd come to my room when I wasn't home.
But you didn't.
Every time, you keep proving me wrong.
But when I try to trust you, something always holds me back.
And now, tonight, I'm going far from you.
Still, my heart wants to believe in you.
Will you break my trust?
No… I know you won't.
He rose from the couch and walked toward Hazel. Just as she turned, she accidentally bumped into something, but Francisco quickly caught her in his arms.
"Mr. Francisco!" Hazel gasped, startled by the sudden closeness.
"Hazel," he said softly, holding her gaze.
"I was just fixing your suitcase. I arranged all the files here," she explained, trying to pull away, but Francisco didn't let go.
Then, with a firm hand, he made her face him.
"Hazel, listen to me!" he said, his voice serious.
Hazel turned to look at him fully, their eyes locking in a charged silence.
"I am going tonight," Francisco said.
Hazel blinked, surprised. Her brows pulled together, confusion settling in.
"Will you wait for me?"
His words echoed in her head. Why would he ask that?
Stammering, Hazel replied, "Of course, I will."
"I am your PA."
"But you are not allowing me with you."
Francisco raised his eyebrows... a subtle reaction to Hazel's words... but said nothing in return. Instead, he simply explained, "It was urgent work, Hazel."
Hazel nodded, accepting the explanation. She lowered her eyes.
Suddenly, Francisco reached out and gently cupped her face, lifting it to meet his gaze. His eyes locked onto hers with quiet intensity. For a moment, Hazel thought he might kiss her, but instead, he just rubbed her lips with his thumb.
She swallowed hard, nerves tightening in her chest.
That gaze.
That touch.
And in her mind, the mission she had been quietly working on played like a silent warning.
"Mr. Francisco!" Hazel blurted.
"Why... why did you ask me that?"
"It's just... I have feelings," Francisco replied.
"I hope you won't do something that makes me disappointed."
"What? Why would I do?" she asked.
"Wait, are you thinking I'm going to steal something from your mansion?"
Francisco chuckled.
"You can't do it. Even if I'm away, my eyes will still be on you. You can't run off with my things."
Hazel raised her brows in mock surprise and gave him a playful push.
"Then, as I'm going to run away and you're going to chase me... why not celebrate our last night, Mr. Francisco?" she said, her tone playfully mischievous.
"Really? What are you going to give me, Ms. Hazel?" Francisco asked.
Hazel flashed a mischievous smile. "Wait a bit."
She walked out of the room.
A moment later, Hazel returned with a tray. On it: a bottle of whiskey and a plate of Txistorra... a spicy Spanish dish.
Francisco arched his brows.
"I didn't know you could make Spanish food," he said.
Hazel gave a sheepish smile. "I don't know. I tried hard... watched YouTube tutorials, and Lily helped too."
She pressed her lips together.
"I... I don't know how it'll taste, Mr. Francisco."