ISABELLE
Life feels different now, like I am walking on eggshells in a room full of secrets.
And it is even worse at work.
Every click of a keyboard, every glance from a coworker, it all feels to much.
Like I am a part of a bigger puzzle I’m only starting to understand.
I’m typing out an email when his voice cuts through the quiet hum of the office.
“Miss Reynolds, in my office. Now.”
Jake’s tone is sharp, as always, leaving no room for argument and my stomach does a little flip -nerves or annoyance, I can’t tell- but I grab my notepad and head to his office.
The door shuts behind me with a soft click. His office is immaculate, all dark wood and sleek furniture, just like him, calculated and untouchable.
He doesn’t look up right away, just flips through a file, his brow furrowed.
“Sit,” he says, finally glancing at me.
I obey, clutching the notepad like a lifeline. “Mr. Montero,” I say, keeping my tone professional.
His gaze lingers on me for a second too long, and I resist the urge to squirm. “How’s the investor follow-up going?".
“It’s... under control,” I reply cautiously.
“Good.” He leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Tell me, Miss Reynolds, what is your take on loyalty?”
The question hits me out of nowhere. I blink, caught off guard. “Loyalty?”
“Yes. To the company, to people. What does it mean to you?”
My throat feels dry. Is this some kind of test? “I think it’s... earned,” I say carefully. “It’s not something you give freely. People have to prove they’re worthy of it.”
He nods, his expression unreadable. “Interesting perspective.”
"I love your answer, you can leave", he said
And I stood up to leave, "what was that about?", I thought.
I leave his office feeling like I’ve just stepped off a tightrope. What was that about?
I got back to working and in few hours, it was my lunch break.
By then my head’s still spinning with different deadlines I had to meet up with but still my stomach grumbled in as I sit with Evelyn in the cafeteria, plastering on my best fake smile.
She had come straight from hwe workplace to have lunch with me. Thanks to me, I had Andre get her a job in his father's company.
Come to think of it, is that when it started?
“God, these meetings are killing me,” she groans, stabbing her salad with a fork. “I swear, if I have to listen to one more budget report, I’ll scream.”
I laugh, though it’s forced. Sitting across from her feels like sitting across from a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“I guess that’s the price of working there,” I say lightly, twirling my fork. “It’s worth it, though. Your place is... impressive.”
She smirks. “And demanding. Speaking of, how’s Andrew? Still playing the perfect boyfriend?”
She would know
My chest tightens, but I keep my face neutral. “Oh, you know him. Always so thoughtful.”
She arches a brow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Lucky you.”
I study her carefully, searching for cracks in her facade. But Evelyn is a pro. She gives nothing away, not even a flicker of guilt.
“So,” I say casually, “he’s been so stressed lately. Have you noticed anything? Like, is there something going on at work he’s not telling me?”
She doesn’t even blink. “Not that I know of. Maybe he’s just tired of you nagging him.”
The jab lands, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I laugh like it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.
The more we talk, the clearer it becomes that she is already playing her own game.
And she’s damn good at it.
After eating, we both left to continue the day's work
I got home in the night after working overtime, when I got home, I laid on the couch scrolling through my phone as I was the only one at work.
Evelyn was out for their monthly company's dinner
As I scrolled through my phone, sipping on the hot tea I had prepared, I heard a knock on the door.
“Coming!” I call, setting down my mug.
When I open the door, Andrew stands there, holding a bouquet of roses.
“Surprise,” he says, flashing that charming smile I used to fall for.
I force a smile. “Andrew, what are you doing here?.
“I missed you.” He steps inside, handing me the flowers. “Thought I’d check in. How’s work? Everything okay with Montero Enterprises?”
The question makes my stomach twist. Why does he care?
“It’s fine,” I say, setting the flowers on the counter. “Nothing exciting.”
He watches me carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”
“Of course,” I lie, my voice steady.
He stays for an hour, acting like the perfect boyfriend. But every word, every glance, feels calculated. When he finally leaves, I feel like I’ve just survived a battle.
Why was he so damn interested in my work place?
He was always the same with my parents company too.
Before they died and it went under
I grab my old journals from the shelf, flipping through the pages until I find what I’m looking for a note about my parents’ last business dealings. Something about a merger that went sour.
My heart races. Then my mind went back to the day I got back from school and I saw my dad talking to someone, he addressed the person as Mr.Montero.
What could the deal have been about?
My mind drifted to the conversation I overhead at work earlier that day, I had stayed overtime to work on a meeting minute.
Most of the lights are off, and the usual buzz of activity is replaced by the hum of the air conditioning.
I was about to pack up when voices catch my attention.
“Fire him if you have to,” a deep voice says.
I freeze. It’s coming from Jake’s office.
“You don’t understand,” another voice, Victor Montero, Jake's father snaps. “This is bigger than you, Jake. We can’t afford any collateral damage again.”
Collateral damage?
I inch closer, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure they’ll hear it.
“Again?” He growls. “This company is mine, now remember” Jake says, his tone ice-cold. “I’m not letting you turn it into a war zone. I am not going to let you destroy it. You do that to everything you touch.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Victor fires back. “Do what needs to be done, or I will.”
My blood runs cold. I don’t know what they’re talking about, but every instinct screams that it’s fucking dangwuand I should get out of here.
As I back away, my heel catches on the edge of the carpet. I stumble, and the sound echoes through the hallway.
The voices stop.
“Who’s there?”
Panic grips me as footsteps approach.