Chapter 3: This Will Teach You Not to Lie!

The next day, Myriam headed to the Lennox mansion. At the entrance, she introduced herself as Mrs. Isis’s new assistant.

Immediately, one of the staff led her through the impressive gardens of the enormous estate. She noticed a huge pool, beautiful rose bushes, and a wooden pergola in the middle, where a stunning, attractive woman lounged on a comfortable sofa.

“Mrs. Isis, this is the woman Mr. Gerald sent,” the employee announced.

Mrs. Lennox removed her sunglasses and looked Myriam up and down. She noticed she was young and beautiful and assumed her stepson had sent her to spy on her, since their relationship was far from good.

Myriam blinked in surprise, realizing that her boss’s stepmother was far younger than she had expected. She didn’t like the way Isis looked at her, but she needed the job, so she offered a smile.

“I’m Myriam Bennett, your new assistant,” she said, extending her hand.

With a disdainful gesture, Isis shook it perfunctorily.

“I hope you do your job well,” she said with arrogance. “I need you to take these documents”—she gestured to the table—“to Gerald’s office. Have him sign them. They’re important quotations. And don’t you dare get them dirty,” she added, taking a sip of orange juice. “Now hand me my crutches and help me up,” she ordered.

Myriam obeyed her new boss’s orders and helped her inside the house, which was enormous, with wide windows and beautiful terraces.

“It’s gorgeous,” Myriam murmured.

“Hurry up, we don’t have all day,” Isis snapped. “When you return, you’ll water the plants on the balcony of my room. Now go.”

Myriam hurried to the company. When she entered the offices, she noticed the silence, everyone completely absorbed in their work. She approached Amanda’s desk.

“Hello, Mrs. Isis sent me to deliver these documents to Mr. Gerald. She said they’re important,” she explained.

“Lower your voice,” Amanda whispered. “The boss likes complete silence when he works. These must be the quotations. Leave them here—I’ll give them to him.”

“But I have to bring them back,” Myriam replied, biting her lip.

“Then you’ll have to wait. Mr. Gerald is busy, and no one dares disturb him.”

Myriam frowned.

“I don’t understand—why is everyone so afraid of him?” she asked. “He’s just a mortal like the rest of us… with more money, of course,” she added honestly.

Amanda’s eyes widened in panic when she realized her boss was standing right behind Myriam. Her legs trembled.

“He’s just a little demanding, that’s all,” Amanda stammered.

“He seems more like a tyrant. I can’t believe there are still people who enjoy keeping their employees under their thumb. That man should know a harmonious workplace improves performance. But I doubt he knows anything about fun,” Myriam said.

“Miss…” Gerald’s deep voice interrupted. He didn’t add her last name, since he never remembered it.

Myriam jumped, startled. Her cheeks turned crimson. She spun around and saw his face, cold and unreadable, showing not a trace of displeasure. He looked like a machine, devoid of emotion.

“I…” she stammered. “I came to drop off some documents,” she explained nervously.

Gerald studied her intently.

“To me it seemed you came to entertain my staff. We have rules here, and they must be followed,” he said firmly.

Myriam nodded and said nothing. She picked up the folder from Amanda’s desk and handed it to him.

“These are them,” she said.

Gerald took the documents and went to his office.

“Oh no,” Amanda whispered. “He’s going to keep an eye on you now. He hates when anyone criticizes him.”

Myriam let out a sigh and shut her eyes tightly.

“He doesn’t seem to like hearing the truth,” she murmured quietly to Amanda before moving away—only to hear her boss shouting her name. She froze in fear, took a breath, and walked to his office.

“Take these back. Have them scanned and emailed immediately,” he ordered.

Barely stepping into the office, she moved quickly to grab the folder. As she reached for it, his hand came down firmly on top of it, his piercing gaze locking onto hers.

“Miss Bennett, let me remind you that your role here is as an assistant, not to entertain my employees,” he said coolly. “And do not make comments about people you don’t know.”

Myriam cleared her throat. The icy tone of his words made her skin prickle.

“I was only…” She stopped herself. She needed this job. Clenching her fists, she lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

She quickly left the office and returned to Isis’s house, where she was immediately ordered to water the plants.

Out on the terrace, she inhaled the delicate scent of the flowers—then suddenly felt nauseous and rushed to the bathroom. After vomiting, pale and weak, she went back to her tasks.

At lunch she barely ate, and in the afternoon she continued assisting Isis.

Days went by this way—Myriam running between the company and the mansion, while her pregnancy symptoms grew more and more evident.

After watering the roses that afternoon, she rushed again to the bathroom to vomit.

“Are you pregnant?” Isis asked bluntly, leaving her no time to think of a lie.

“Uh, I…” Myriam stammered, trembling. She leaned against the doorframe, nodded, and her eyes filled with tears.

Isis tilted her head, smiling slyly.

“This isn’t good. Gerald doesn’t like employees with children. He says they reduce productivity. If he finds out, he’ll fire you.”

“Please, help me,” Myriam begged, knowing full well that in her condition no company would hire her. “I’ll do whatever you ask,” she pleaded, looking at her boss with desperate eyes.

That last phrase was music to Isis’s ears.

“I can keep your secret, but only if you also work as a nanny and help me care for my little boy. You’ve seen him—he’s four. I won’t pay you extra, but I can tell Gerald to raise your salary,” she said. “Do you take it or leave it?”

“I accept,” Myriam answered, though she knew the burden would be heavy.

From that day on, in addition to her usual tasks, Myriam began taking care of little Jeremy. But as time went on, the work became increasingly exhausting.

Every night when she got home, the first thing she did was shower. Then she ate something light and went straight to bed.

“I don’t know how much longer we can keep this up,” she whispered, stroking her belly. “I just hope that when you grow, that ogre won’t fire us,” she added, thinking of Gerald’s cold face. With a sigh, her eyelids fluttered closed, and she drifted to sleep.

The next morning she arrived late at Isis’s house.

“I need you right now!” Isis shouted. “Why are you late?”

“I don’t feel very well,” Myriam admitted. “But don’t worry, I’ll keep working. What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to pick up a dress from the dry cleaner’s. Make sure it’s spotless,” Isis ordered.

Myriam nodded. Before leaving, she felt a sharp pang in her belly. Pressing her lips together, she hurried to the restroom—only to find a small bloodstain in her underwear.

“My baby,” she whispered, trembling. “Mrs. Isis!” she cried out.

The woman, hearing the screams, grabbed her crutches and went to the bathroom.

“What is it?” she asked.

Myriam opened the door, her eyes full of tears.

“I’m bleeding,” she said, deeply worried.

“This is not good. If Gerald finds out, we’ll have problems,” Isis muttered.

Myriam pressed her lips together and shook her head. She knew the woman didn’t care about her or the baby—only about avoiding trouble with her stepson.

“I need to go to a hospital,” Myriam insisted.

“Yes, of course,” Isis said, handing her money for a taxi.

“Please, hold on,” Myriam whispered to her belly, stroking it as she left.

****

Gerald arrived at the hospital looking for his partner Kevin, who had reportedly had an accident. After checking at reception, he headed toward the emergency room. Seeing a commotion in one ward, he entered—only to realize he had made a mistake when the nurses shouted at him.

“This is the gynecology ward,” a nurse informed. “Is your wife in labor?”

“No, I’m not married,” he replied tersely. “I’m looking for the ER.”

The nurse smiled and gave him directions. Just as he was leaving, he nearly collided with Myriam. He was surprised to see her there—and noticed how pale and haggard she looked.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Are you pregnant?”

Myriam felt her blood run cold. She had never imagined encountering him there. Quickly, she scrambled for an excuse.

“No, of course not. My best friend works in this department, she’s a gynecologist. I came for some routine tests required by the company—and to say hello.”

Gerald raised both eyebrows.

“I suppose you need to get back to Isis,” he said.

“Yes, she only gave me a few hours’ leave. I’ll return after lunch,” she explained.

“Then have lunch with me. I need to ask you some things,” he said.

“With me? Right now?” she asked, though what she needed most was medical care.

“Of course. I don’t have all day,” he stated.

Myriam nodded reluctantly and went with him to a nearby restaurant. She ordered something light, and thanks to medication for nausea Elsa had given her, she was eating better.

“How are things with my stepmother?” Gerald asked.

“All fine,” Myriam replied. “She’s very dedicated to her work,” she added.

Gerald took a sip of wine.

“And to frivolities,” he muttered under his breath.

Myriam heard him but made no comment.

“I need to use the restroom,” she said, standing.

Gerald nodded, distracted with his phone as he checked urgent orders. He was so absorbed he didn’t notice how much time passed—until he realized she had been gone for half an hour. Raising his hand, he summoned the waiter.

“Did you see the woman who was with me leave?” he asked seriously.

The young man shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Bring the check,” Gerald ordered, striding to the restroom. He knocked several times. “Miss Bennett,” he called. When there was no response, he pushed the door open—and found her unconscious.

“Help!” he shouted, rushing to her side. He took her pulse and felt it faint. He exhaled sharply.

The restaurant staff quickly helped Gerald carry her to his car. He drove at full speed to the nearest hospital, where she was rushed into emergency care.

Since she was an employee, he stayed to learn her condition. While waiting, he visited Kevin, who had only suffered a minor fracture in his hand while playing volleyball. Half an hour later, a nurse appeared, asking for Myriam’s family. But Gerald hadn’t bothered to check HR for any emergency contacts.

“I’m her boss,” he said. “How is she?”

“She’s stable, but she needs rest. She suffered a threatened miscarriage,” the nurse reported.

“Miscarriage?!” he exclaimed, his muscles tensing. “Can I see her?”

“She’s asleep, but come with me,” the nurse said.

Gerald followed the woman with a grave expression. She left him in the room, where he found Myriam pale and with her eyes closed. He suppressed the urge to fire her then and there. Instead, he left the room—and the hospital.

“I can’t allow this,” he muttered in his car. He sped to his office, opened his laptop, and drafted an email to Myriam Bennett.

This will teach you not to lie, he assured himself.

Before hitting send, Gerald requested Myriam’s file from HR. His assistant brought it to him at once.

His brow furrowed, and he slammed his fist against the desk.

“She’s Raymond Wilson’s wife,” he growled in fury. “I can’t believe that bastard sent his wife to spy on us.” His breathing grew heavier. “But they won’t make fools of us,” he vowed, hitting send. The email went straight to Myriam’s inbox.