Amelia's POV
A sharp pain throbbed in my temple, making me groan. A dark silhouette loomed over me.
I blinked.
"Are you okay?"
I shot up in panic—and immediately regretted it. I gripped the cushion for support, rubbing my temple in pain.
"W-what happened?" I asked.
His grey eyes bore into me as he slowly retracted his hand. He stepped back, jaw tightening.
"You collapsed," he stated.
I blinked. "W-what?"
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.
I paused. His gaze was soft—tender—as if worried I'd break down in front of him.
"Y-yeah." I straightened. "I'm fine."
His gaze dropped to my trembling hands. His brows furrowed.
I fisted my palm, desperately trying to stop it from shaking. I didn't want to look weak, especially in front of him.
His eyes searched mine, brows knitting. "What do you remember?"
I glanced around the room, at the documents spread on the desk and shredded paper in the bin.
I remembered how he'd interrupted brunch with Emily and how mad I was when I stormed into his office.
I turned to him, scowling. "You interrupted my brunch date."
He stepped closer, eyes wide. "With whom?"
Why was he interested in my lunch date?
I paused. "That's none of your business…sir."
Silence stretched between us with each passing moment. His nostrils flared as he stared at me, his eyes darkening.
I met his gaze without flinching. I knew I'd lose if I so much as blinked.
What right did he have to question me? It was my day off for fuck's sake.
He fisted his palm and took a deep breath. He blinked, then stepped back.
"You're right."
"What?"
"I shouldn't have interrupted your brunch or called you in on your day off," he said.
I stared at him in surprise.
"Was that…an apology?"
He walked away without a reply and gathered the documents sprawled on his desk.
"You took a nasty fall. You should rest."
I ignored his words and walked towards him.
"Are those the Carlson documents?"
It was the entire reason he'd called me in the first place. I needed to resolve it and get as far away from him as possible.
He nodded.
"Are there any problems with it?" I asked.
"I can't find some of the sensitive information included in the contract."
My brows shot up. "What?"
I grabbed the contract and flipped through the papers. Sure enough, clause 1B through E were missing.
"How did—"
I flipped through the pages again in case I'd missed it.
Nope.
"How did this happen?" I asked.
My heart thumped in my chest. The contract was signed and sealed. The project was to start in two weeks.
I turned to him. His gaze sharpened when they met mine. There was a curious glint in it.
"Where did you place the contract?"
He shrugged.
I dug my nails into my palm at his indifference.
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, but it was gone the next second. I wondered if I imagined it. "Maybe someone took it."
I took in a deep breath. "What do you mean someone took it?"
He blinked, studying me.
"Did you check the security footage to see if anyone has been in your office?"
He shook his head. "There was a blackout a few hours ago for fifteen minutes. Those fifteen minutes of footage were erased."
I scoffed. "You own the best IT company in the States and you're telling me you were hacked?"
He stood up. "Miss White, even the best can be bested sometimes."
His eyes met mine. "Take your old boss for example."
I ran my fingers through my hair. This was bad. Really bad.
I turned to him. "What do we do? If word gets out you were hacked, you could—"
My stomach rumbled loudly, cutting me off. I looked away, embarrassed.
He walked back to his desk and picked up the phone.
"Trey, bring me lunch. Grilled cheese sandwiches." A slight pause. "Brie cheese, not cheddar."
My body went cold when I heard that. I took a step back slowly.
He dropped the call and turned to me. He paused when he saw the look on my face.
"What?"
"How do you know I like Brie cheese and not cheddar?" I asked.
He froze.
"How do you know I like grilled cheese sandwiches?"
The room grew silent. There was no way he could have known such information.
How did he know the exact kind of cheese I hated?
He could have mentioned any other cheese, but he asked Trey not to get cheddar because he knew I hated it.
Who the hell was Adrian Cane?
"Brian told me," he blurted, after a slight pause.
I frowned. "Brian?"
He nodded and looked away.
"Why would Brian tell you what I liked and didn't like to eat, Mr. Cane?" I inquired.
It didn't make sense.
He held my gaze. "That's a question for your boyfriend, Miss White."
He tilted his head with a smirk. "Who knows what goes on in that pretty little head of his?"
I didn't know if I should believe him. Brian did have a habit of trusting people too easily. It was a part of him that I loved…and hated.
Adrian Cane was the last person I wanted Brian to trust. There was something about him that didn't sit right with me.
The faint memory of him hugging me tight when I was unconscious flitted through my mind. It was a dream.
It had to be.