NATALIE'S POV
"Ms. Cross, come to my office. Now. We need to talk about something urgent."
Adrian's voice on the phone is cold. Controlled. The voice he uses when something is very wrong.
My legs feel like water as I walk toward his office door. Twenty-five minutes until I'm supposed to meet Vivienne. But if Adrian knows the truth, twenty-five minutes won't matter.
Nothing will matter anymore.
I push open the door. Adrian stands by the window, his back to me.
"Close the door," he says without turning around.
I obey, my heart hammering.
"I just received an interesting email," Adrian continues, still not looking at me. "Someone claiming to have information about you. Information they say I need to know."
My world tilts. Vivienne sent it already. She didn't even wait for the meeting.
"What kind of information?" I manage to ask.
Adrian finally turns. His gray eyes are unreadable. "That's what I want you to tell me. Is there something I should know, Natalie?"
This is it. The moment I could confess everything. Tell him about Marcus, about the lies, about why I really took this job.
But the words stick in my throat.
"No," I lie. "There's nothing."
He studies my face for a long moment. Then he does something that shocks me—he smiles slightly.
"Good. Because I didn't believe a word of it anyway." He walks to his desk and deletes the email. "Someone's trying to cause problems between us. Probably a competitor trying to shake my focus. I just wanted to make sure you knew about it in case they contact you directly."
Relief and guilt crash over me in equal measure. He's giving me an out. He's choosing to trust me.
And I'm still lying to him.
"Thank you for telling me," I whisper.
"Always." He glances at his watch. "You can go. I know it's late."
I nod and turn to leave, but his voice stops me.
"Natalie? Tomorrow night. Eight PM. My penthouse. We have a session scheduled."
"I remember."
"Good. Because I want to try something new with you. Something that requires even deeper trust."
My stomach flips. "What kind of something?"
"You'll find out tomorrow." His eyes hold mine. "Do you trust me?"
No. I shouldn't. I'm betraying you every single day.
"Yes," I say instead. "I trust you."
Another lie in a mountain of lies.
I leave the building and head toward Café Noir, my mind spinning.
For the past three months, I've been living two completely different lives. During the day, I'm the perfect assistant. I arrive before Adrian, stay after he leaves, manage his impossible schedule with ruthless efficiency. I'm professional, invisible, essential.
But three nights a week, I transform into someone else entirely.
I kneel at his feet. I surrender to his control. I let him see parts of me I've never shown anyone.
And the worst part? Both versions feel real.
I'm falling in love with him in both lives. As his assistant and as his submissive. As the woman who runs his empire and the woman who surrenders to his touch.
But there's a third version of me too. The spy. The betrayer.
Every week, I copy files from his computer when he's in meetings. I photograph documents. I record conversations. And I send everything to Marcus.
Except lately, something's been bothering me. The evidence doesn't match Marcus's story.
Marcus claimed Adrian built his empire through crime. Through stealing and cheating and destroying people.
But the files I've seen show the opposite. Adrian's business deals are aggressive but legal. His contracts are tough but fair. He pays his employees well. He donates millions to charity anonymously.
He's not the villain Marcus painted him to be.
So who's lying? Marcus or my own eyes?
I reach Café Noir and spot Vivienne immediately. She sits in the corner, elegant and cold, a coffee cup in front of her.
I slide into the seat across from her.
"You're late," she says.
"You said thirty minutes. It's been twenty-eight."
A smile touches her perfect lips. "Punctual. Adrian always did like that quality."
"What do you want, Vivienne?"
"Straight to business. I can see why he hired you." She takes a sip of coffee. "I want you gone. Out of his company. Out of his life. Out of his bed."
"Why?"
"Because you're not good enough for him. You're a nobody with a dead mother and a criminal father, playing dress-up in a world you don't belong in." Her eyes narrow. "Adrian deserves better than a lying little spy."
Heat floods my face. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know everything about you, Natalie Cross. Or should I say, Natalie Cross, daughter of Marcus Cross—the man who destroyed Adrian's family." She leans forward. "I know you took this job to infiltrate his life. I know you've been feeding information to your father for months. I know about your pathetic attempts to access his private accounts."
"How do you—"
"I've been watching you since day one. I have connections Adrian doesn't know about. People who owe me favors. It wasn't hard to figure out what you were doing." She pulls out her phone. "I have photos. Recordings. Proof of everything. One click and Adrian sees it all."
My hands clench into fists under the table. "What do you want?"
"Quit. Tomorrow. Tell Adrian you found another job. Leave New York. Disappear from his life forever."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I destroy you both. I send Adrian the evidence that you've been betraying him. And I send the police evidence that your father murdered Adrian's father—with you as an accessory."
The world spins. "I didn't know about any murder—"
"You think the police will care? You've been actively helping Marcus for months. That makes you guilty." She slides a folder across the table. "Read it. Then decide."
With shaking hands, I open the folder.
Inside are photos. Documents. Evidence that Marcus was there the night Adrian's father died. Evidence suggesting it wasn't suicide at all.
And worst of all—a photo of me, from two months ago, handing Marcus a flash drive outside my apartment.
"You have twenty-four hours," Vivienne says, standing up. "Quit and run, or stay and watch everything burn."
She walks away, leaving me alone with the evidence of my own destruction.
My phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number.
UNKNOWN: Don't trust Vivienne. She's lying about some things. Meet me at Pier 17 in one hour if you want the real truth about what happened to Adrian's father. Come alone. -E
E. Elias.
He knows something Vivienne doesn't.
But who do I trust? The woman blackmailing me or the man who already discovered my secret?
I stare at the message, then at the folder in front of me.
Then my phone rings. Marcus.
"Did you get the account codes yet?" he demands. "I need them by Friday or—"
"Did you kill Adrian's father?" I interrupt.
Silence on the other end.
Then Marcus laughs. A cold, ugly sound.
"Who told you that fairy tale?"
"Answer the question. Did you murder him?"
"What I did or didn't do ten years ago is irrelevant. What matters is getting those codes." His voice turns hard. "You're in too deep to back out now, Natalie. Finish the job or face the consequences."
He hangs up.
I sit in the empty café, surrounded by lies and threats and impossible choices.
My phone buzzes one more time. Another unknown number.
UNKNOWN: Your father isn't who you think he is. Neither is Adrian. Neither is Vivienne. If you want to know the truth about all of them, check Adrian's locked desk drawer. The bottom one. The key is taped under his chair. What you find there will change everything. But be warned—once you know the truth, there's no going back.
I stare at the message.
Someone is playing games with me. But who? And why?
There's only one way to find out.
I have to break into Adrian's private desk.
Tonight.