Chapter 177: Chapter 177

Just what in the hell was that?

I sat behind my desk, eyes fixed on a random corner of the wall, replaying the morning over and over again. Delilah crying. The girls around her. The way she broke down and then… what? She said she thought she’d hate them, but by the end, she looked almost at peace. Was she worse now or better? I couldn’t tell anymore.

Four hours. Four damn hours. Nala still hadn’t shown up at the office. What were they talking about that long? Every minute that passed chewed away at my nerves. I needed answers—but at the same time, I didn’t. Part of me was terrified to know what they’d decided.

“Who are you?”

The voice snapped me out of my head. I turned left and saw a woman standing by the door, hand on her hip, sharp brown eyes behind even sharper glasses.

She looked… familiar. But from where?

She had that kind of face you didn’t forget easily—high cheekbones, tied-up hair so neat it could slice paper, lips that looked naturally stern, and a body that made it hard to focus on anything else. Slim waist, thick thighs, a chest that her button-up blouse was doing its best to contain.

I blinked, trying to remember. “I’m, uh, Nala’s secretary,” I said. “Well, one of them. Apparently, she’s got two now. What do you know.”

“Mm.” She nodded slightly, unimpressed. “Is she in her room? I need to talk to her about the Phoenix Project.”

“No, not yet,” I said. Then it hit me. “Wait… I know you from somewhere. What was your name again? I swear I’ve seen you before.”

“On the bus,” she said flatly. “You asked which perfume I was using.”

“Oh. Crap, yeah.” I scratched the back of my neck. “Sorry about that, by the way. It probably came off like I was hitting on you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”

She cut me off with a glare sharp enough to pin me to the chair. “You should be kissing Nala’s ass, not mine, kid,” she said, already turning to leave. “Call extension 7# when she arrives. That’s my office number.”

“Yup,” I muttered.

She walked off, heels clicking against the tile floor. I shouldn’t have been watching, but I did. Her tight black pants were perfectly cut, professional but—well, let’s just say she didn’t need to try hard to leave an impression.

If I wasn’t already sweating bullets over Delilah and whatever the hell was happening at home, maybe I’d have let myself enjoy the view. But right now? I couldn’t focus on anything. I was too wired, too anxious. My thoughts wouldn’t stay still.

What were they talking about this long? About me? About them? About us?

I slumped back in my chair, rubbing my temples.

And despite everything, I caught myself smiling. Anchor. They called me that. The word echoed in my head like it meant something. It shouldn’t have—it was just a metaphor. But damn, hearing that had made something inside me tighten. Like for once, I mattered.

My phone buzzed.

I froze when I saw the name: Ivy.

Shit.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. If she ever found out about her mother… about the baby… that was the end of everything.

I cleared my throat and picked up. “Ivy?”

“Hey, Evan,” she said. Her voice was soft, calm, that same friendly tone that always made me feel both relaxed and guilty. “Sorry I’m calling you this early. Were you awake?”

She had no idea. Not about the penthouse. Not about Delilah. Not about any of it. I’d kept her out of that world for a reason. At least until I figured out how to handle the disaster I’d made.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile she couldn’t see. “What’s up?”

“Mom’s not picking up,” she said. “She didn’t have work today. I called a few times.”

“She’s not home, huh?” I said, trying to sound casual. “When I talked to her about that keyboard issue, she told me she’d be going out with some friends.”

“When was that?”

“Yesterday,” I lied smoothly. “Yeah, we talked yesterday. I think she just needed some time off, you know? Clear her head.”

Ivy was quiet for a moment. “Mm… maybe you’re right. Okay. Just let me know if you see her or something, alright?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “Of course.”

“Alright. Bye, Evan.” Then her tone softened a little, teasing. “You still owe me that coffee, don’t forget.”

“Roger that, ma’am.”

She giggled and hung up.

As soon as I set the phone down, it buzzed again. I groaned.

Mendy.

I hesitated before answering. The last time I’d seen her was at the police station, when everything with her stalker had gone down.

I picked up. “Hey, Mendy.”

She exhaled on the other end before speaking. “Oh, Evan. Hope I’m not catching you too early.”

“No, not at all,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Just checking in,” she said. “We didn’t really talk after the police thing. I wanted to see how you were.”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically. “How about you?”

“Same old,” she sighed.

“How’s Penelope?” I asked. “Still shaken up after… everything?”

“Shaken?” she repeated, then laughed quietly. “Penelope’s stronger than me, Evan. Always has been.”

“Last I checked, you got your stalker arrested,” I said. “If that’s not strong, I don’t know what is.”

There was a pause. Then my eyes widened as a memory clicked into place.

“Oh my god,” I said suddenly. “That’s why you called me, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“The panties,” I said, facepalming.

“Oh, god, Evan…” she groaned, half-laughing, half-mortified. “I completely forgot about that! Please tell me you still have them.”

“I do,” I said, trying not to laugh. “I’ll swing by when I get the chance and return them. Promise.”

“Please,” she said, her voice flustered but warm. “I’d… appreciate that.”

“Cool. Then I’ll give you a call first so I don’t just show up unannounced.”

“Yes, that would be… better.”

We both chuckled, the awkwardness fading into a comfortable silence.

“Well,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Guess I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Bye, Evan.”

“Bye.”

The call ended.

Everything was starting to blur together, the penthouse, TechForge, the girls, Delilah, the baby.

I took a deep breath, ran a hand through my hair, and muttered to myself, “Just what the hell are you doing, Evan…”

The city hummed faintly beyond the glass walls of the office, the world still moving forward while I sat there, completely still.

I grabbed my phone, unlocked it—and froze. Sarah. Not Sarah Lin from the board. Sarah, Vanessa’s rabid lapdog. The one who’d sent Delilah death threats, snapped upskirt photos, orchestrated the blackmail. She sauntered toward me, hips swaying, eyes never leaving mine. Then she planted a manicured hand on my desk and leaned in.

“Huh?”

“Evan.” Her voice dripped honey. “What a surprise.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I hissed.

“Guy says hi.” She purred. “Actually, scratch that. He says just ’fuck you.’ Rude guy, huh?”

“How are you not—”

“Behind bars?” She tilted her head, smirking. “Guy’s lawyers, sweetheart. A little cash here, a little file there. Some people call it corruption. I call it networking.”

“You’re insane.”

“Mmm. I’ve been called worse.” She rested her elbows on the desk, leaning closer. “Anyway, I’m the new operations coordinator here. TechForge wanted someone familiar with Guy’s older systems. Guess who fit the bill?”

“You’re kidding.”

“You wish I was.” She smiled with teeth, the kind of smile that could draw blood. “Seems the HR team didn’t bother to check references when the board fast-tracked my hire. You know how it goes, Guy still has friends up there. A few of the old guard owe him favors. One call from him, a few doctored recommendation letters, and poof. I’m in. Welcome aboard, right?”

I blinked at her, completely stunned. “You’re saying the board hired you? Nala would never sign off on that.”

“Of course she didn’t.” Sarah brushed an invisible speck of dust from her sleeve, pretending to look bored. “That’s the best part. She didn’t even know. Apparently, one of the ’senior advisors’ signed off the approval packet before it hit her desk. Happens all the time. Bureaucracy, honey. Beautiful chaos.”

I stood, my jaw tightening. “Then you’re gone the second she finds out.”

She gave a soft, mocking laugh. “You really think that’ll help? I’m bulletproof, Evan. I was hired on a fixed-term consultancy under the board’s discretion. Firing me without cause would trigger a breach clause, and TechForge doesn’t need another lawsuit. Not with Meridian still haunting their books.”

My eyes narrowed. “Meridian?”

“Mmm.” She reached into her sleek black folder and pulled out a thin stack of papers, sliding it toward me like a dealer tossing cards.

I looked down. Internal report format. TechForge letterhead. The title made my stomach knot: MERIDIAN ACQUISITION – COMPLIANCE SUMMARY.

“What is this?”

“Proof,” she said, tapping the top sheet with her nail. “Proof of how dirty Guy played, and how he made Nala play along.”

“Nala had nothing to do with his scams.”

Sarah tilted her head like a cat toying with something small and trembling. “Didn’t she? See, Guy might’ve been a monster, but he was smart. When he was still CEO, he made sure his sister signed every major acquisition and audit. VP of Strategy at the time, perfect paper trail. Every dirty move went out with her name under it.”

I frowned. “Wait—so there’s an open lawsuit? Is that what you’re saying?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Please. No one’s suing anyone. Yet. Meridian’s just… a stain the company keeps pretending isn’t there. Legal skeletons in a very expensive closet. But if someone like me were to, say, open that door? People would start screaming.”

My pulse quickened. “Go on.”

“Well, what was I saying? Oh, yeah, yeah, when the Meridian deal came up, there were red flags all over it. Patent infringement, ghost vendors, shell accounts… all the fun stuff.” She smiled faintly. “Nala wanted to kill the deal. But Guy? He had other plans. He told her if she didn’t sign off on the falsified due diligence report, he’d destroy her. Personal videos. Emails. The kind of things that never disappear.”

My stomach dropped. “You’re saying he blackmailed her.”

“Of course he did. He’s family, remember?” Sarah laughed under her breath, quiet and cruel. “Blood doesn’t make people kind, it just gives them access.”

“You’re lying,” I said, though it didn’t sound convincing even to me.

“Uuh, no?” She straightened her blouse. “She signed. The board never looked closer. Meridian went through, TechForge got its quarterly boost, and Guy walked away with a multi-million-dollar bonus. Meanwhile, your lovely CEO? She got to carry the guilt while her brother toasted champagne on her signature.”

I felt heat creeping up my neck. “You expose that, and Guy goes down with her.”

Sarah grinned. “You think he cares? Guy’s already overseas, Singapore, Dubai, something flashy. New company, new name, same greed. But Nala? She’s still here. She’s the one holding the bag now. The board doesn’t forgive, Evan. It feeds.”

“So what—Guy sent you here to finish her off? To leak this?”

She smiled, slow and serpentine. “That was the plan. He trusted me to bring Nala down, make her choke on the mess he left behind.”

I hesitated. “And you’re… doing this out of loyalty?”

Sarah’s laugh was sharp and sudden. “Loyalty? Oh, honey, please. I don’t give a damn about Guy. He thinks I’m still his little errand girl, but I don’t work for him anymore. Not after that… interesting video. Surprised? Yes, I know about that safe thing. He can’t make me do anything. Any FUCKING thing.” She tapped the folder again, nails clicking against the cover. “I work for myself.”

My throat went dry. “Meaning?”

“Meaning this stays buried,” she said, voice dropping to a whisper. “Two million a month. That’s the price of silence. Nala pays, I forget I ever saw these files. Everyone stays happy.”

“You’re blackmailing her.”

She shrugged. “I’m giving her an option. Two million for peace of mind. Seems like a bargain compared to public humiliation, don’t you think?”

“You’re disgusting,” I muttered.

She gave a fake pout. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, handsome.”

Then she gathered her folder, winked, and turned toward the hallway.

“Oh, and Evan?” she called over her shoulder, her heels clicking against the tile. “Next time you see Nala, tell her her past is catching up. I’ll be around.”

She walked off, hips swaying, perfume trailing behind her like smoke from a fire that never really went out. I stared at the elevator long after she was gone, heart pounding.

Guy had strings everywhere. Even with him gone, they were still pulling.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered.

I slumped back into my chair, head in my hands. The paper lay on the desk, heavy as a confession.

“I want my gas-station job back.”

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

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