CHAPTER EIGHT

Chapter 0008

Alexander's POV

The investigation report landed on my desk at 9 PM. It was forty pages of Lily Rose's life reduced to bullet points and documentation.

I should have gone home hours ago. 

The office was empty except for security and the cleaning crew. 

But I'd been waiting for this. I'd been unable to focus on anything else until I understood who she really was.

James had been thorough. Too thorough, maybe.

I opened a folder and scanned the executive summary first.

Subject: Lily Rose, DOB: March 15, 1995

Current Employment: Martinez Art Supplies, $28,000 annual salary

Education: Miami Dade College, BA in Fine Arts, graduated with honors despite working three part-time jobs

Family: Mother, Elena Rose, missing since 1999, declared legally dead in 2003. Father unknown. No siblings.

The next section made me pause.

Foster Care History: Entered the system at age 8 following the mother's disappearance. Six different placements over ten years. Aged out at 18 with no family support.

Six different homes. Damn. I tried to imagine what that meant – being passed around, never belonging anywhere, always temporary.

But I shook off the unwanted sympathy. I was not here for that. This wasn't about her tragic backstory. This was about finding leverage.

So I kept reading.

Financial Status: $847 in checking account. $12,000 in student loan debt. Rents a studio apartment, $1,200/month. No assets. No criminal convictions.

That last phrase had an asterisk. I flipped to the next document and there it was.

Arrest Record: July 2014, Age 19 - Art Forgery.

My pulse quickened. Finally, something useful.

Details: Rose was arrested for reproducing and selling forged paintings. Investigation revealed she had been deceived by boyfriend Marcus Webb, who claimed the reproductions were for "practice" and "personal use." Webb sold the forgeries as originals to private collectors. Charges against Rose were dropped when investigators confirmed she had no knowledge of Webb's activities and received no proceeds from sales. Webb served 18 months for fraud.

I leaned back in my chair, mind racing.

I thought I'd had something but – 

The charges were dropped. She was proven innocent, victimized by someone she trusted.

But the arrest record still existed. And in the court of public opinion, arrest records mattered more than dismissals.

I could already see the headlines: Thompson Enterprises CEO's Criminal Past Revealed. The board would panic. Shareholders would demand answers. Clients like Grand Palms would reconsider their contracts.

No one would care that she was innocent. The damage would be done.

My phone buzzed. James was checking in. Got the report. You still at the office?

Yes.

Found anything useful?

I stared at the arrest record, my finger tracing the words "charges dropped" and "victim."

Maybe.

Alexander, whatever you're thinking – 

I silenced my phone and kept reading.

The rest of the report detailed her life after the arrest. She'd rebuilt herself piece by piece. Finished college. 

Found legitimate work. Built a small but successful online art gallery that earned her an additional $8,000 last year.

She'd been knocked down and got back up. Again and again.

Richard would have definitely admired that.

I closed the folder, frustrated by the conflicting thoughts warring in my head.

She was a threat to everything I'd worked for. Using her past against her was just a smart strategy.

But at the same time, she was also someone who'd survived things I couldn't imagine. 

She'd been betrayed and blamed for crimes she didn't commit.

Someone who'd been in my bed less than two weeks ago, breathless and vulnerable and real.

I stood abruptly, pacing to the window. 

My new office view mocked me.

Richard had known about her arrest record. He must have. The man didn't make billion-dollar decisions without complete information.

And he'd chosen her anyway.

Why?

Leadership is not inherited by blood but earned through character – I reminded myself.

He'd seen something in her that mattered more than credentials or pedigree. Something worth more than my thirty years of preparation.

My phone rang. An unknown number. I almost didn't answer, but something made me pick up.

"Alexander Thompson."

"Mr. Thompson, this is Marcus Chen from Client Relations." His voice was tight with barely controlled excitement. "I thought you should know, Miss Rose met with Grand Palms Hotels' CEO this evening."

My jaw clenched. "And?"

"And she convinced him to honor the contract. He was ready to walk, but she... I don't know what she said, but it worked."

I said nothing.

"I just thought you'd want to know. She might not have experience, but she's got instincts. Good ones."

After he hung up, I stood in the dark office, overlooking the city.

Lily Rose had saved a forty-million-dollar contract on her second day. Without anyone's help.

No, she was supposed to be failing. She was supposed to be crumbling under pressure and proving Richard wrong.

Instead, she was surviving.

I opened my calendar, scrolling through the week's scheduled meetings. 

Executive strategy session. Department head reviews. Quarterly planning committee.

All meetings Lily should attend. Meetings that would help her understand the company and build relationships with key personnel.

My finger hovered over the scheduling system.

If she didn't know about these meetings, she couldn't attend them. 

She'd look uninvolved, disconnected from operations. The board would notice. Executives would question her commitment.

It wouldn't be a lie, exactly. Just an oversight. 

An unfortunate failure of communication.

I started making changes, removing Lily's name from attendee lists, shifting meeting times without notifying her office.

Small sabotages. Nothing she could definitively trace back to me.

By the time I finished, I'd effectively excluded her from fifteen critical meetings over the next two weeks.

I should have felt satisfied. Victorious, even but I felt hollow.

My phone lit up with a notification. An email from Willis, the lawyer: Per Richard's will, a reminder that both you and Miss Rose must attend the monthly board meeting together. 

Failure to collaborate as specified in the will's conditions will result in forfeiture of shares.

Of course. Richard had built in safeguards, forcing us to work together whether we wanted to or not.

The old man really had thought of everything.

I looked at Lily's file one more time, at the photo of her younger self, eyes wary but determined.

Then I looked at the arrest record. 

I could either use her past to destroy her credibility, or I could use it to understand why Richard had chosen her despite it all.

Destroy or understand.

The old Alexander would have chosen destruction immediately.

But that Alexander had lost his inheritance to a woman who'd survived worse than he could imagine.

I slipped the arrest record back into the folder and locked it in my desk drawer.

Not because I wouldn't use it. But because I wanted to be sure, when I did, that it was the right move.

Then, I grabbed my coat and headed for the elevator, exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with lack of sleep.

Tomorrow, I'd watch Lily navigate the meetings I'd excluded her from. I'd watch her scramble to figure out why no one had informed her office.