Darlene did not offer him a cup of coffee or try to soothe his frayed nerves.
She simply pointed to the velvet chair in front of her mahogany desk and dropped the file containing his personal information onto the surface.
“I spent the morning investigating exactly who you are, Blake.”
He felt his face burning with humiliation as she read off his injury, the unfair dismissal he had suffered after leaving the Army, his medical debts, and the severity of Abigail’s asthma.
“You have absolutely no right to pry into my daughter’s health or my personal life,” he said, finally finding the courage to stand up for himself.
“If I had wanted to hurt you, you would already be out of this building and stripped of your pension,” she replied coldly, standing up to meet his eyes.
“Sit back down, because I am not finished.”
Blake obeyed only because he needed to hear how she planned to destroy his remaining hope.
But then, Darlene did something entirely unexpected.
She closed the folder and told him the unvarnished truth.
“That accident was far more serious than the public knows,” she admitted, her voice lowering.
“I suffered four broken ribs, two fractured vertebrae, and nerve damage that often leaves me unable to stand or walk.”
“The board of directors is completely unaware of the true severity of my injuries.”
“If those investors discovered that my recovery could take another year, they would demand my immediate replacement before finalizing the largest merger in our group’s history.”
“My half brother, Preston, has been gathering secret votes for months to oust me from the presidency.”
“My father left me in control of the company, and Preston has never been able to accept that.”
Blake frowned, leaning forward in confusion.
“And what exactly does your family drama have to do with me?”
“The highway cameras mysteriously stopped working eleven minutes before my crash,” she explained.
“The vehicle had been fully inspected the day before, so someone definitely knew my route, my specific schedule, and the exact condition of the car.”
“I am surrounded by people I can no longer trust.”
Darlene wanted to hire him as her personal assistant and primary security detail outside of the office.
She did not need him to understand complex corporate mergers, but she did need someone trained to observe his surroundings.
She needed someone outside of her family’s inner circle, and above all, someone who had too much to lose to ever consider betraying her secret.
“The salary will be eighty five thousand pesos per month,” she stated.
“I will provide full private health insurance for you and Abigail, including all medications, top tier specialists, and hospital stays.”
Blake immediately thought about the empty inhaler he had hidden away that morning so his daughter would not notice his mounting panic.
“What is the condition for all of this?”
“Absolute, unwavering loyalty,” she declared.
“If you speak against my position, you will lose everything you have ever worked for.”
“If you decide to work for my brother instead, I will make sure you are blacklisted and can never step foot inside this company again.”
“That sounds much more like a dark threat than an employment contract.”
“It is both, Blake.”
He agreed to her terms, knowing he had no other viable options.
During the following weeks, he traded his standard cleaning uniform for tailored suits that Darlene had custom fitted to his measurements.
He learned to recognize exactly when she needed to sit down, when the sharp pain was stealing her breath away, and when a high stakes meeting should be brought to a quick end without raising any suspicion.
He also discovered that Preston smiled too much in front of the press cameras but cruelly humiliated her sister when no one else was within earshot.
“Dad only gave you that chair out of pity, not because you were better than me,” Preston taunted her one afternoon in the lounge.
Darlene pretended not to hear him, but Blake saw her hands trembling violently under the table.
One night, as he was leaving the underground parking garage, Preston intercepted Blake near his car.
“A rather curious rise to power,” Preston remarked, mockingly adjusting his gold cufflinks.
“From cleaning bathroom toilets to taking care of my dear sister.”
Blake continued walking toward his vehicle, ignoring the provocation.
“I have absolutely nothing to say to you, sir.”
Preston smiled thinly and pulled a small blue inhaler out of his coat pocket, identical to the one Abigail used.
“Girls with asthma should really avoid sudden, traumatic frights.”
“Especially when they leave school without their father watching over them.”
Blake lunged at him, but two massive bodyguards stepped out from the shadows to intervene.
Preston calmly tucked the inhaler away with a smug expression.
“Convince her to resign before Friday’s gala, or your daughter might discover that even taking a breath has a very steep price.”
That same night, Blake raced to find Abigail at Mrs. Clark’s house, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He found her safe and fast asleep, but pinned to the front door was a recently taken photograph.
It showed Abigail leaving her school, with a bright red circle drawn around her face.
On the back of the picture, there was only one chilling sentence written in ink.
“At the upcoming gala, Darlene will finally fall in front of everyone.”
Blake looked at the photo and finally understood that the accident months ago had never been an accident at all.
