Chasing Back His Secret Twins Mother

HAZEL COLLINS POV

Three hundred and sixty-five days. That was exactly how long I had been Caleb Anderson’s secret.

To the rest of Anderson Airlines, I was just Hazel Collins—the quiet, highly efficient assistant who kept the Chief Pilot and billionaire heir’s schedule perfectly organized. I was the girl who brewed his black coffee, organized his flight logs, and stood politely in the background whenever the media cameras flashed. But behind the soundproof mahogany doors of his private office, I thought I was the woman he loved.

I stared at the velvet box hidden beneath a stack of flight manifests in his desk drawer. My heart did a pathetic, hopeful flutter. A ring?  We had been talking about the future lately. "You're overthinking, Hazel," I muttered, gently closing the drawer. "He loves you. He wouldn't keep you a secret for a year if it didn't mean something."

The heavy office door clicked open. I quickly stood straight, expecting Caleb’s tall, commanding figure. Instead, it was Arthur Anderson, his intimidating father, followed closely by Bianca Harrington. Bianca looked like she had just stepped off a Paris runway—impeccable blonde hair and an air of absolute ownership.

"Where is my son, Miss Collins?" Arthur asked, his voice cutting like glass. He didn't even look at me. To him, I was just part of the office furniture.

"Captain Anderson is still conducting the pre-flight briefing, sir," I replied, keeping my voice professional despite the sudden tightening in my chest.

Bianca chuckled, a sharp, mocking sound as she ran a manicured finger over Caleb’s desk. "Good. Because if he thinks he can avoid our engagement dinner tonight, he's mistaken. Tell him his mother already finalized the guest list, Hazel."

My breath hitched. Engagement dinner?

"Is there an issue, Miss Collins?" Arthur’s sharp eyes narrowed at me.

"No, sir. I’ll make sure he gets the message," I forced out. My throat felt incredibly dry. As soon as they left, the walls felt like they were crashing down on me. Engagement? Caleb hadn't said a word. We had spent the previous night entangled in his bed sheets, his whispers promising me that everything would make sense soon. Was it all a lie?

Determined to get answers, I fled the office and took the private elevator down to the pilots' briefing room. The corridor was quiet. As I approached the door, I heard voices filtering through the crack, stopping me dead in my tracks.

"So, the Harrington merger is actually happening? Man, I thought you were totally into your little assistant," Caleb’s co-pilot said, laughing.

I held my breath, waiting for Caleb to defend me.

"Hazel?" Caleb’s voice was disturbingly casual, devoid of any warmth. "Come on. You know how the media works. Bianca needed to know she couldn't just walk out on me. Seeing me with someone else brought her right back to the negotiating table."

"Damn. So Hazel is just... a rebound?"

"She’s a sweet girl, but my parents would never accept someone from her background anyway. She’s just a temporary distraction until the ink dries on the marriage contract with Bianca. It’s business."

Every word felt like a physical blow to my chest. I couldn't breathe. A temporary distraction. A tool to make his rich ex-girlfriend jealous. The velvet box wasn't for me; it was for Bianca. I didn't cry. The pain was so sharp, so violently sudden, that it burned away my tears. I turned around and walked back to the elevator, my legs moving on pure adrenaline.

By the time Caleb returned to his office an hour later, the room was dimly lit. A heavy rainstorm was hitting the glass windows.

"Hazel? Why are you still here?" Caleb asked, tossing his pilot cap onto the couch. He walked up behind me, his hands instantly finding my waist, his lips brushing my neck. His touch, which used to make me melt, now made my skin crawl.

"Is it true?" I asked, pulling away from him.

Caleb frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"The engagement. Bianca." I looked him dead in the eye. "I heard you, Caleb. In the briefing room. 'A temporary distraction.' That's all I am to you?"

A flash of guilt crossed his handsome features, quickly replaced by his cold, arrogant mask. "Hazel, you weren't supposed to hear that. The airline is facing a massive restructuring, and the Harrington alliance is necessary—"

"Did you ever love me?" I cut him off, my voice cracking.

"Love?" Caleb let out a harsh, frustrated breath. "We had fun, Hazel. I care about you. But you knew who I was from day one. I have responsibilities. I can't just marry whoever I want. Don't be naive."

Naive. I wanted to scream, but the sheer weight of his betrayal suffocated me.

"I want you to leave," I whispered. "Leave, Caleb! Please."

He stared at me, his jaw clenched, before grabbing his coat and walking out, slamming the door. The moment he left, I collapsed into his chair, sobbing until my ribs ached. I felt incredibly small, discarded, and worthless.

Two hours passed. I knew what I had to do. I couldn't stay here and watch him marry another woman. I pulled out a blank sheet of paper and typed a single sentence: I resign, effective immediately.

As I stood up to place the letter on his desk, the door unlocked. Caleb walked back in. His tie was loosened, his hair messy, and he smelled faintly of alcohol. He had skipped the dinner.

"We need to finish this," he growled, locking the door behind him. His eyes were dark, filled with a volatile mix of frustration and raw anger.

"There's nothing left to say," I said, trying to push past him.

But Caleb caught my wrist, pulling me hard against his chest. The contact was electric, a painful reminder of everything I was losing. "Don't look at me like I'm a monster, Hazel. You want me just as much as I want you."

Before I could finish, his mouth crashed onto mine. This was desperate, angry, and fiercely possessive. I tried to push him away, but the heartbreak inside me mutated into a sudden, wild desperation. If this was the end, I wanted to burn out completely.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, responding to his kiss with a ferocity that caught him off guard. Caleb groaned, lifting me effortlessly onto the large desk, scattering papers to the floor. His hands were everywhere, tearing at the buttons of my blouse with a desperate urgency. The coolness of the wood against my back contrasted sharply with the scorching heat of his body pressing down on me.

We moved together in a chaotic, feverish rhythm, driven by unspoken anger and unyielding passion. It was raw, breathless, and intensely emotional. He whispered my name against my skin, his grip tightening as if he were trying to anchor me to him, even while knowing he was letting me go.

When the storm finally subsided, Caleb fell into a heavy, exhausted sleep on the office sofa, his arm draped over his face.

I stood up, my body aching, my heart entirely shattered. I dressed quietly in the dark, refusing to look at him. I walked over to the desk, picked up my typed resignation letter, and placed it right next to his car keys. Without a backward glance, I opened the door and walked out into the rainy night, leaving Caleb Anderson behind.