03: No Place To Hide.

ROSE.

"What the hell, Sharma?" I said, staring at my friend, waiting for an answer that made sense.

She stared back for a long moment, not knowing what to say at first.

Then she swallowed and spoke carefully. "It's fine, Rose. I think I have an idea, but honestly there's no way you can walk into Drake Machorace's office. You literally spilled a drink on his face last night, It hasn't even been twenty four hours, and now you're going to stand in front of him and ask for money."

I let out a shaky breath, my whole body tense. "Fuck. You're right! You're so damn right! What am I supposed to do now? I can't let my father rot in that hospital bed."

Sharma stepped closer and we stared quietly at the empty floor for a while before her eyes lit up. "Wait. I think I've got an idea."

"You said that already," I said. "And all you did was list reasons why I shouldn't go."

"No, listen. Since he doesn't know you, or your connection to his butler, I can pretend to be his daughter instead. I'll say I'm Mr Norman's daughter." She said.

I shook my head. "Sharma, this isn't a movie. This is real life. What if there's a situation where his actual daughter is needed and you're stuck keeping up a lie? Do you understand what impersonation could mean for you?"

She rubbed her forehead, clearly frustrated. "Fine. Do you have a better idea? Your father is literally on his deathbed right now, and I promise you the hospital won't wait forever before they stop treating him, and you can't let your pride get in the way of that. You need to decide, because we both know there's no chance Drake gives you a cent once he realizes who you are."

I looked at her for a long moment. "Or maybe he has a heart somewhere. Maybe he'll be angry but still help my dad."

She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Rose, stop these delusions. Men like that don't know kindness. You'd be walking straight into his hands by showing up there. Remember what he told you? Spend the rest of your life running from him."

Hearing those words again made something in me sink.

As much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew she was right about everything.

I stood there for a long moment, not sure if I wanted to cry or just give up completely.

Finally I looked at her. "Right now, my father comes first. I don't care what happens to me, but I'm not leaving that office without the money. Let's go!"

Sharma studied me for a moment, wanting to argue but knowing better than to fight me once my mind was made up.

She got in the car without another word, started the engine, and began to drive.

Twenty minutes later we pulled up outside Arden Capital, and my breath caught.

The building rose high into the sky, all glass and steel, gleaming like it had been polished that morning just for show.

People in sharp suits moved in and out through the revolving doors like the whole world ran on their schedules alone.

"He is indeed very wealthy," I muttered.

Sharma sighed. "You should know a man like that didn't even care that you tore up a check. His real problem was you spilling a drink on him."

We both let out a small laugh despite everything, but underneath it I felt myself falling apart quietly.

The thought of looking into his eyes again made my stomach twist.

He was a nightmare I couldn't explain, something between a man and a devil I had no words for.

Sharma took my hand gently. "We can do this, Rose. I believe in you."

We walked into the building together and approached the front desk.

I smiled at the receptionist, trying to sound calm. "Hi, I'm Rose Norman, the daughter of Mr Norman, the butler. My dad told me he has an appointment with the boss this morning and I'm his replacement."

The receptionist checked her screen and smiled. "Hi, I'm Clara. Yes, you're on the list for this morning." Her smile shifted into something more teasing. "Sit tight, he would be here in 20 minutes."

My nerves spiked, and Sharma gave me a quiet nod, trying to encourage me.

"So I just wait?" I asked.

"He'll be here shortly. Just be patient," Clara said.

I thanked her and walked back to sit beside Sharma.

"What did she say?" Sharma asked.

I leaned back, already exhausted from the thought of facing him. "She said he'll be here in twenty minutes and I'm first on his list."

Sharma's eyes widened and she let out a slow breath, sensing this was about to go badly.

I cleared my throat and reached into my bag, pulling out a pair of glasses.

I slid them on and turned to Sharma. "Does this make me look less like me?"

She studied me, trying to find something encouraging to say. "The glasses help, but your hair is basically a signal flare. It's practically shouting that you're the one who threw a drink at him."

I sighed dramatically. "Ugh, Sharma, you could be a little more helpful. Give me your cap."

She raised an eyebrow. "No way. My hair's a mess under there."

"You wanted to help me, right? Give me the cap."

She groaned and pulled it off, handing it over.

I tucked my red curls underneath and turned to her. "What do you think?"

Before she could answer, a ripple of greetings moved through the lobby as employees straightened up and lowered their voices.

My eyes followed the sound and landed on him.

Drake Machorace walked in with his usual guards trailing behind, dressed sharp enough to look like he belonged on a magazine cover, his gray eyes cold and unreadable even from a distance.

I swallowed hard.

As much as I hated him, I couldn't deny the man was infuriatingly good looking, and honestly, I understood exactly why he carried himself like he owned the world.

Sharma snapped her fingers in front of my face, pulling me back.

"Sorry," I muttered. "I think the disguise is working. Hides most of what makes me look like me."

"Yeah," Sharma said. "You look like a spy about to rob a bank."

"That's the point," I said, forcing a smile.

Just as I settled back into my seat, the memory of last night crashed over me all over again, every detail of that encounter replaying at once. Goosebumps rose along my arms as I watched him disappear into his office with his guards.

Moments later Clara waved me over. "You can go in now. He doesn't like to be kept waiting for appointments."

I thanked her, stood, and smoothed my clothes down, praying silently that whatever was about to happen wouldn't completely destroy me.

My legs felt unsteady as I walked toward the office door, sweat gathering along my hairline despite the cool air inside the building.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

He wasn't facing me.

He stood by a small fridge, pouring himself a glass of water, his back turned.

I kept my head slightly bowed, trusting the glasses and cap to hide enough of my face.

"Good day, sir," I said, clearing my throat. "I'm Rose Norman, the daughter of your private butler, Mr Norman. I'm here regarding the appointment you scheduled with him."

He didn't turn around. "I don't need to see any relatives of Mr Norman. I need him here, as the appointment stated. That will be all."

Something in my chest tightened at how dismissive he sounded, not even bothering to look at who was speaking.

But I thought of my father's words and forced myself to keep going. "About that, sir. He's in the hospital right now, bedridden. I'm the only one who could come speak with you today. I'm sorry he couldn't be here himself."

There was a long pause, and I heard him sigh like my presence alone was ruining his morning.

Then he turned around slowly and stared at me for a long while.

My heart pounded so loud I was sure he could hear it.

Why was he staring at me like that?

Did he recognize me?

His expression shifted into a hard frown as he studied me for a moment before finally sitting down behind his desk. "What the hell is a spy doing in my company?"

My eyes went wide. "No, sir, I'm not a spy. I just have a sun sensitivity issue, that's why..."

Before I could finish, he called out, "Clara!"

Clara rushed in immediately, visibly nervous.

"Why the hell would you let some spy walk into my building to steal from me tomorrow? Get this thing out of here right now!" he yelled.

Clara turned to me, panic all over her face, but I only stared back, desperate.

There was no one else who could get this money for my father.

I stepped past Clara toward his desk. "I'm so sorry, sir, but my father is in a critical condition right now. I had my reasons for dressing this way, please, I'm sorry."

He didn't even glance up, continuing to sort through papers on his desk while I practically begged.

Then his voice cut through again. "Clara, do you want me to fire you, or are you going to do your job?"

Clara nodded quickly, terrified. "Yes sir, I'll call the securities right now."

She hurried out, and fury built inside me, because Sharma had been right all along. This man was exactly the devil she said he was.

"Don't you have anyone you love?" I snapped. "How would you feel if they were dying and you had absolutely nothing you could do?"

He rolled his eyes and slammed a hand on the table. "Can you stop with the sob story?! People like you always think a little speech is going to move mountains. If you'd spent half that energy building a real life instead of standing here giving me some poor man's motivational quote, you wouldn't be here begging!"

I held myself together, remembering my father's words, forcing myself to stay calm even as my whole body wanted to scream.

I lowered my head. "Please, sir. He promised to pay it back with three months of working non-stop. We just need it right now. We're in a very difficult situation."

I kept my head down for a long moment before finally lifting it to look at him again.

He was watching me, and something about the way his eyes lingered made my chest tighten with fear. This didn't feel random anymore.

A strand of my red hair slipped loose from beneath the cap, and my heart slammed against my ribs.

He leaned in slightly, studying me more closely now.

"If you actually want my help," he said slowly, "take off the cap and the glasses. I don't talk to people dressed up like it's some costume party."

"I'm not a spy," I said quickly. "I just have this sun issue..."

"I heard you the first time," he cut in. "There's no sun in this room. Take them off, or use the door."

I stood frozen, gripping the edge of the chair beside me, unsure which option terrified me more.