Chapter 2 - The File With Her Name on It
The jet landed shortly before dawn.
Caitlyn did not remember the touchdown.
She remembered nothing after leaning against Deari’s shoulder.
When she finally opened her eyes, the plane was quiet.
The storm had passed.
The cabin lights were soft.
Her head was still resting against him.
She froze.
Every muscle in her body locked at once.
Oh God.
Caitlyn lifted her head so quickly she nearly hit Deari in the jaw.
“I’m sorry.”
The words came out in a whisper.
Deari turned toward her.
His expression was calm.
“You were tired.”
“I shouldn’t have—”
“You were tired,” he repeated.
Caitlyn swallowed.
“I fell asleep on you.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You already said that.”
Her cheeks burned.
She looked at her hands.
“Did anyone see?”
Deari’s eyebrow lifted.
“You think I would have allowed that to become a discussion?”
She looked toward the front.
Luigi was conspicuously examining a wall.
Two captains were pretending they had urgent emails.
Caitlyn groaned silently.
She wanted the seat to swallow her whole.
“I didn’t mean to disrespect you.”
“You didn’t.”
Deari picked up his phone.
“You needed sleep.”
That was all.
But when he stood, his left shoulder remained stiff.
Caitlyn noticed.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“You stayed still.”
He looked at her.
“For how long?”
She regretted asking.
“Long enough.”
A strange warmth passed through her chest.
Before she could speak again, the cabin door opened.
Luigi entered.
“Car’s waiting.”
Deari nodded.
Then Luigi looked at Caitlyn.
His mouth twitched.
“Sleep well?”
Caitlyn wanted to disappear.
Deari’s stare stopped him.
Luigi immediately straightened.
“Right. Car.”
Outside, the early morning air was brutally cold.
A black convoy waited on the tarmac.
Caitlyn hurried toward the second SUV, but Deari stopped her.
“You’re coming with me.”
She blinked.
“With you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You handle my schedule.”
“I always ride with the staff vehicle.”
“Not today.”
She looked at the first SUV, where Luigi was already sitting.
Then back at Deari.
Something about his tone made arguing feel dangerous.
She entered his vehicle.
During the drive into Manhattan, Deari remained silent.
Caitlyn opened her tablet.
She had barely unlocked the screen when a folder appeared.
ELMORE, CAITLYN — INTERNAL REVIEW.
Her blood turned cold.
She had never seen it before.
She looked at Deari.
“Sir?”
His gaze remained on the city.
“Yes?”
“This folder.”
“Open it.”
Her fingers went cold.
She did.
The first page contained her employment history.
Second-grade records.
College transcripts.
Her apartment lease.
Medical invoices for Tommy.
Information about her parents.
Caitlyn stared.
“This is private.”
“I know.”
“Why do you have it?”
Deari said nothing.
She kept scrolling.
Then she saw the date.
June 17, 2007.
Her father had died that year.
She remembered the funeral.
Her mother’s white face.
Tommy, seven years old, crying into her coat.
The family had been told her father died in an industrial accident.
But the file told a different story.
Her father, Daniel Elmore, had worked as an accountant for Hamilton International Holdings.
He had not been killed in an accident.
He had vanished three days after sending Evelyn Hamilton a confidential report.
Caitlyn’s breathing stopped.
“My father knew your mother?”
“Yes.”
“What did he find?”
“That is what I am trying to determine.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“You knew.”
“I knew his name.”
“You knew what happened to him.”
“I knew pieces.”
She looked at him, anger replacing shock.
“Then why did you hire me?”
Deari finally turned.
“Because I did not.”
“What?”
“My HR department hired you.”
She stared.
He continued.
“I reviewed your file only after you had been working for me for six months.”
“Why?”
“Because someone tried to access your personnel records.”
The car became silent.
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Caitlyn looked back at the file.
On the final page was a photograph she had never seen.
Her father stood beside Evelyn Hamilton outside a private office.
And behind them, partially hidden by a doorway, was a younger Deari.
He was only nineteen.
Caitlyn had never seen the picture before.
Her hands trembled.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my family.”
“Not personally.”
“Then why did my father disappear?”
Deari’s jaw tightened.
“I told you. I don’t know the entire truth.”
The SUV stopped outside Hamilton Tower.
Deari stepped out.
Caitlyn followed.
For the first time since she had started working for him, she did not feel intimidated.
She felt betrayed.
At 9 a.m., the board meeting began.
At 9:17, the first gunshot shattered the conference room window.
Security screamed.
Caitlyn ducked instinctively.
Deari grabbed her and pulled her to the floor.
Glass rained across the conference table.
Luigi drew his weapon.
“Sniper!”
Guards rushed forward.
Deari shielded Caitlyn with his body.
She felt his arm around her.
“Stay down.”
“Mr. Hamilton—”
“Stay down.”
A second shot struck the wall behind them.
Then silence.
The sniper had vanished.
Luigi rushed to the window.
“Building across the street. Third floor.”
Deari looked at Caitlyn.
“Are you hit?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Good.”
He stood.
She grabbed his sleeve.
“Wait.”
He looked down.
Her fingers were still wrapped around him.
“I saw something.”
“What?”
“The first shooter.”
Luigi turned.
“You saw him?”
Caitlyn nodded.
“He was wearing a gray watch.”
Luigi frowned.
“So?”
“My father had one.”
Silence.
Deari’s face changed.
Not much.
But enough.
“Bring me every photograph from the old Elmore investigation,” he said.
Luigi nodded.
Caitlyn looked at Deari.
“Someone is trying to scare me.”
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“Someone is trying to make sure you never discover what your father found.”
That afternoon, Caitlyn was moved into Deari’s penthouse under armed protection.
She protested.
He ignored her.
By evening, she discovered why.
Someone had broken into her apartment.
Nothing valuable had been taken.
Not her laptop.
Not her jewelry.
Not even cash.
Only one thing was missing.
A photograph of her father.
Deari stood beside her in the wrecked living room.
His expression was unreadable.
Then Caitlyn asked the question that changed everything.
“Do you think my father was killed because of your family?”
Deari looked at the empty frame.
“Yes.”
She inhaled sharply.
“And are you going to tell me who did it?”
He faced her.
“I will.”
“When?”
“When I can protect you from the answer.”
Her eyes met his.
For the first time, the wall between employer and employee cracked.
Because underneath the mafia boss, underneath the billionaire CEO, underneath the man everyone feared, Caitlyn saw something else.
May you like
A promise.
And Deari Hamilton never made promises he could not keep.
