Chapter 2

It showed my profile from only moments earlier, while I was still sitting inside the café. From the angle, whoever had taken the picture had been hiding behind the potted plant directly across from me.

A message appeared beneath the photograph, and the words sent a chill down my spine. [Don't think about running away, Emma. I'm watching you.]

Back at my desk, the burn on my hand still throbbed.

I dug some ointment out of my drawer and smeared it over the reddened skin, ignoring the mix of sympathetic and curious looks from my coworkers.

A meeting reminder appeared in the corner of my computer screen. Alexander had scheduled it himself: [3:00 p.m. My office.]

I dismissed the notification and began packing my belongings.

There wasn't much: a mug, a small succulent, and a few books. They were the same things I had brought with me on my first day at the company.

I still remembered that morning clearly. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows as Alexander, dressed in a simple white shirt, conducted my interview himself.

Leaning against the window, he asked, "Why do you want to work here?"

I thought about it before giving him the most straightforward answer I had. "Because your company is one of the best in the industry, and the salary is good."

My bluntness made him laugh, and in the sunlight, he seemed warm and approachable. "You're refreshingly honest."

Only later did I learn that he was the company's founder, a young and highly successful businessman whom countless people admired.

He personally trained me, teaching me how to manage projects and navigate the business.

When I worked late, he sometimes brought me something warm to drink.

When difficult clients cornered me, he quietly stepped in and smoothed things over. For a long time, I believed I had found the best mentor I could have asked for.

Then Olivia appeared and tore that illusion apart.

At three that afternoon, I carried my box to Alexander's office and knocked. His voice came from inside. "Come in."

Alexander sat behind his desk. The moment he noticed the box in my arms, his brows drew together. "What are you doing with that?"

I placed my resignation letter on his desk. "Mr. Grant, I'm here to complete my resignation."

He didn't bother looking at the letter. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and studied me. "You're quitting over a cup of coffee? Emma, is that really the extent of your professionalism?"

I looked at him and found the accusation almost laughable. "Mr. Grant, this isn't about one cup of coffee."

Alexander rose and walked toward me, his height making the confrontation feel deliberately intimidating. "Then what is it? The messages Olivia sent you?"

He stopped in front of me. "You stay at the office with me late into the night. Of course she gets suspicious. If you had understood the need for boundaries, would she have misunderstood you in the first place?"

With a few sentences, he managed to place all the blame on me.

Apparently, Olivia was entitled to harass me because I hadn't maintained enough distance, and I deserved the coffee burn because I should have known better.

He continued, "She's anxious and insecure, Emma. Is it so difficult for you to show her a little understanding?"

I studied the face I had once considered warm and kind. Now, all I could see was hypocrisy. "Alexander, she isn't anxious. She's disturbed. She hid a camera in the potted plant across from me."

I pulled out my phone and showed him the photograph Olivia had sent. Something shifted in his expression, but the reaction disappeared almost immediately.

Alexander lowered his gaze to the screen before handing my phone back. "I'll speak to her. I didn't handle this properly, and I apologize."

He took out his wallet, pulled out a bank card, and held it toward me. "There's 35,000 dollars on this. Consider it compensation for what you've been through. And forget what happened at the café. Olivia lost her temper, that's all."

I stared at the card in his hand. Apparently, my dignity and everything I had endured could be assigned a price and settled with money.

Instead of taking the card, I looked directly at him. "Mr. Grant, there's a password-protected album on your phone called Private Memories."

Alexander froze, his hand still extended between us. "How do you know about that?"

I had discovered it accidentally while helping him deal with an urgent email. The album required both fingerprint and facial recognition to unlock, and at the time, I had assumed he was preparing some kind of surprise for Olivia.

I stepped closer and lowered my voice. "I'm guessing the pictures in there aren't of Olivia."

His pupils contracted sharply, confirming more than any answer could have.

I smiled, picked up my box, and turned toward the door. "Mr. Grant, you should take good care of your precious Olivia."

I left without waiting to see his reaction. As I reached the elevator, my work phone suddenly chimed with a system notification.

[Guardian Angel has been remotely uninstalled.]

It was an internal security app every employee was required to install, supposedly to protect confidential company information. Only then did I understand that Olivia's real means of watching me had never been the hidden camera.

Alexander was the one who had installed it.