Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Wanted My Job and the Man Who Wanted Me SafeThe next morning, my access badge stopped working.
I swiped it twice.
Red light.
Again.
Red.
Security approached me.
“Ms. Keller, we're going to need you to wait in the lobby.”
“For what?”
“HR will speak with you.”
I stared at him.
“I'm senior credit strategist.”
“I know.”
“I have a board presentation at nine.”
“I know.”
“Then let me upstairs.”
He shook his head.
“I'm sorry.”
Humiliation was a strange thing.
It did not feel hot.
It felt cold.
Every employee walking past recognized me.
No one stopped.
My entire career was suddenly trapped behind a glass door.
Then Mallory walked in.
She looked perfect.
Cream coat.
Black heels.
Coffee in one hand.
A small smile.
“Rough morning?”
I looked at her.
“Did you do this?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Do what?”
“My badge.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
She sighed.
“Naomi, I'm not responsible for how badly your personal life collided with your professional one.”
“You knew about Nate.”
“I knew there was a Cross connection.”
“You knew he loved me?”
“No.”
That was the first answer from her I believed.
She stepped closer.
“I want your job.”
I blinked.
“At least you're honest.”
“I want your job badly.”
“And you think this is how you get it?”
“I don't have to think.”
She looked toward the elevators.
“Your own company is investigating you.”
That was enough.
I went home.
At noon, my attorney called.
Wren & Park had suspended me pending review.
My stock options were frozen.
My email access was restricted.
My bonus was being held.
The same people who had called me indispensable two weeks earlier now called me “a potential compliance concern.”
Then Nate called.
I answered because I was weak.
“Naomi.”
“What?”
“I can fix this.”
“No.”
“They're trying to isolate you.”
“You did that yourself.”
“I know.”
“Then let me handle it.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because my father is behind it.”
Silence.
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
“He knows about me?”
“He knew about you before I did.”
That frightened me.
“How?”
“My family's people monitor major ownership changes involving Wren & Park.”
“So your father knew you were dating me.”
“Yes.”
“And he said nothing?”
“He wanted me close to you.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He wanted me to vote for the acquisition.”
My chest tightened.
“You were supposed to influence me?”
“No.”
“Nate.”
“I swear to you.”
“Then what did he want?”
“The company.”
“And you thought living with me was unrelated?”
“Yes.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Because you're still assuming my father wanted the company for money.”
“What else?”
“Control.”
That afternoon, Nate came to my apartment with documents.
He spread them across my dining table.
Family trusts.
Voting agreements.
Estate records.
Private letters.
My head spun.
His mother's estate had been placed into a trust twenty years earlier.
The trust held thirty-eight percent of Wren & Park's voting shares.
Not because Richard Cross had bought them.
Because his mother had.
“She invested in Everett Wren when the firm was small,” Nate explained.
“And Everett knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't anyone know?”
“Because the shares were held through three entities.”
“Why hide it?”
“My mother believed Everett was honest.”
I laughed.
“She was wrong.”
Nate looked at me.
“She may have been.”
I turned a page.
A handwritten note was attached.
Nathaniel, when you are old enough to understand the difference between wealth and power, remember that money can be inherited. Trust cannot.
His mother's handwriting.
I stared at the words.
“What did she want you to do?”
“Not what my father wanted.”
“What did she want?”
“Protect the company.”
“From whom?”
“From him.”
Then the doorbell rang.
A man in a dark suit stood outside.
He introduced himself as Jonathan Hale.
Wall Street attorney.
Cross family counsel.
The same lawyer from the boardroom.
He looked at the documents.
“Mr. Cross, your father has filed an emergency petition.”
“For what?”
“To remove your voting authority.”
Nate went pale.
“On what grounds?”
“Undue influence.”
Jonathan looked at me.
“Specifically, they claim your romantic relationship with Ms. Keller compromised your judgment.”
I folded my arms.
“Convenient.”
“It gets worse,” Jonathan said.
He placed a document on the table.
Richard Cross had petitioned the court to declare Nate incapable of independently exercising the trust's voting rights.
“Because of the debt,” Jonathan said.
I felt sick.
“What debt?”
“The $84,327 judgment.”
I looked at Nate.
“They're saying you were financially unstable.”
“Yes.”
“Which means I made you more stable.”
Nate's expression darkened.
“And now they say Naomi is controlling me because she paid it.”
I laughed.
“This is insane.”
Jonathan didn't disagree.
“It's strategic.”
Then he opened another file.
“There's one more problem.”
He slid a photograph across the table.
It showed me leaving a bank six days earlier.
The transfer confirmation was visible on my phone.
Someone had photographed me.
Someone had been watching.
I looked at Nate.
“How long have they been following me?”
His jaw tightened.
“Probably longer than we know.”
For the first time, I believed his fear.
That night, someone tried to break into my apartment.
The lock was damaged.
Nothing was taken.
Only one thing was left behind.
A black envelope.
Inside was a single sentence.
Leave Nathaniel Cross, or lose everything.
I looked at Nate.
He stared at the note.
Then his face changed.
Not fear.
Fury.
He reached for his phone.
“No.”
I grabbed his wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling my father.”
“Don't.”
“I need to know whether this is his.”
“Maybe that's what they want.”
He looked at me.
For one second, we were back in the diner.
Two strangers.
Two people trying to decide whether trust was worth the risk.
“I won't let them touch you,” he said.
I swallowed.
“You already did.”
His eyes closed.
“I know.”
Then I took his hand.
“Don't promise to protect me.”
He looked at me.
“Promise to tell me the truth.”
He nodded.
May you like
“I promise.”
Neither of us knew that the promise would soon cost him everything.
Related Stories
