"That new energy tech IPO is looking promising, Sterling."
I glanced up from my computer to find my colleagues gathered around Theodore's desk, reviewing financial reports. I hadn't been paying much attention to their conversation, my mind focused on the message I'd just received from Need Iron with the address to my grandmother's place.
"Sterling's not interested in IPOs these days," Theodore joked, nudging Jason with his elbow. "He's got a mysterious wife to think about."
The mention of my supposed marriage immediately caught my attention.
"Wife?" Jason raised an eyebrow. "The great Arthur Sterling, taken? I don't believe it."
I remained silent, typing out a response to Need Iron. Let them speculate. It didn't matter to me.
"It's true," Theodore insisted. "I heard from Philip that some woman showed up at the office claiming to be Mrs. Sterling. Apparently, she even had documentation."
"Probably just another gold-digger," said Jason, shaking his head. "How many is that this year, Sterling? Five? Six?"
I ignored them, closing my laptop. "I'm heading out. The Horton contract needs finalization by tomorrow."
"Such a devoted husband," Theodore called after me as I walked away. "Rushing home to the missus!"
I didn't bother correcting them. Let them think what they wanted. My grandmother was the only person who mattered, and Need Iron was helping me get to her.
---
I stepped out of the Sterling building, exhausted after a long day of meetings and spreadsheets. The security guard nodded respectfully as I passed.
"Ms. Dubois."
The voice made me freeze mid-step. I knew that voice. It had once been gentle, even loving. Now it dripped with contempt.
I turned slowly to face Caleb Sterling.
"Caleb," I said, keeping my voice neutral despite the way my heart raced. "What brings you here?"
He was as handsome as ever in his tailored suit, his golden hair swept back perfectly. But the warmth I once saw in his eyes was gone, replaced by something cold and calculating.
"I was in the area," he said casually, stepping closer. "Thought we could chat."
"I have nothing to say to you." I moved to walk past him, but he caught my arm.
"Not so fast, Elara. Fiona told me something interesting the other day."
My blood turned to ice. Fiona. My stepsister had always hated me, always looked for ways to hurt me.
"Let go of me," I said firmly.
"Is it true?" His grip tightened. "Are you really Alistair's bastard?"
The word cut through me like a knife. I tried to pull away, but he held fast.
"That's why you couldn't tell me, isn't it?" His voice grew louder. "All those years I chased after you at university, and you kept this secret."
"Stop it," I hissed, aware that people were beginning to stare. "You're making a scene."
"A scene?" He laughed bitterly. "That's rich coming from you. Do you know what happened when my grandfather found out his son had an affair? He disowned him. Cut him off completely. My father killed himself because of that shame."
I didn't know that. How could I? But the pain in his eyes was real, even as it turned to cruelty.
"And here I was, nearly following in his footsteps," Caleb continued. "Falling for another bastard."
I finally wrenched my arm free, anger replacing my shock. "I never asked you to chase me. And I never lied to you."
"Lie of omission," he spat. "You knew what it would do to my family name if I married someone like you."
"Someone like me?" My voice shook with rage. "I didn't even know I was illegitimate until graduation day, when Fiona announced it to everyone at the ceremony!"
A flicker of doubt passed over his face, but it disappeared quickly. "It doesn't matter now. I'm engaged to Fiona—a proper match. But..." He stepped closer again, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I still want you, Elara. You could be my mistress. I'd take care of you."
The audacity of his offer stunned me into momentary silence. Then, without thinking, I slapped him hard across the face.
The crack of my palm against his cheek echoed in the suddenly quiet street. Caleb's face reddened, first from the impact, then from rage.
"You'll regret that," he snarled, grabbing my wrist painfully tight. "I was offering you a lifeline. Now I'll make sure you never find work in Oceanion again. Every door will be closed to you."
"Let her go."
We both turned to see Arthur Sterling standing a few feet away, his assistant Philip beside him. I hadn't noticed them approach.
Caleb immediately released me, his demeanor shifting to forced politeness. "Uncle Arthur. I was just having a discussion with an old friend."
Arthur's cold eyes assessed the situation. "Nephew. I wasn't aware you knew Ms. Dubois."
"We attended university together," Caleb said smoothly. "Ancient history now."
I rubbed my wrist where Caleb's fingers had dug in, saying nothing. What was there to say? Arthur Sterling had already made it clear what he thought of me.
"Philip," Arthur said evenly, "please ensure Mr. Sterling finds his way to wherever he needs to be."
"Of course, sir." Philip stepped forward, gesturing for Caleb to follow him.
Caleb hesitated, then gave me one last venomous look. "This isn't over, Elara."
As Philip led him away, I stood awkwardly under Arthur's scrutiny. His face was unreadable, those piercing eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.
"Thank you," I finally said, voice barely above a whisper.
"Don't mistake my intervention for assistance," he replied coldly. "I simply don't tolerate scenes outside my building."
Philip returned just then, looking concerned. "Sir, shall I call security to escort Ms. Dubois home?"
Arthur glanced at me, then shook his head. "No need. She's an irrelevant person to us. We have more important matters to attend to."
Irrelevant person. The dismissal stung more than it should have. I'd been called worse, treated worse. Yet coming from him, it felt like another slap.
"Excuse me," I murmured, turning away before either man could see the tears threatening to spill. I walked as quickly as dignity would allow, not looking back.
---
Hours later, I sat in my tiny apartment, scrolling through job listings on my phone. Despite Caleb's threats, I wouldn't give up. I'd survived worse. I always did.
A message notification popped up from "Grandson."
Grandson: Will be there in 20 minutes. Doctor is coming tomorrow morning.
I smiled slightly. At least my online friend was reliable. Unlike the real Arthur Sterling, who couldn't see past his own prejudices.
Need Iron: I'll be waiting. Mrs. Sterling had a good day today. She asked about you.
I set my phone down and went to check on the old woman dozing in my spare room. Her silver hair was spread across the pillow, her breathing even. She looked peaceful for once, not agitated as she often was.
A soft knock on my door startled me. It was too early for Arthur—for "Grandson"—to arrive.
I tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole. My heart stopped.
Arthur Sterling stood in my hallway, frowning at my door number as if double-checking the address.
I stepped back, mind racing. How had he found me? Why was he here?
Another knock, more insistent this time.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.
Arthur's expression shifted from impatience to shock when he saw me. Before either of us could speak, a voice called out from inside my apartment.
"Is that you, my dear boy? Finally come to visit your grandmother?"
Mrs. Sterling's voice, clear and alert for once, echoed from the bedroom. Arthur's eyes widened as he stared past me into my tiny apartment, the truth dawning on him at last.
I swallowed hard. "You'd better come in," I said quietly. "We have a lot to talk about."