05: Behind The Bathroom Door.

ROSE.

I looked at Sharma for a long moment, my heart already beating fast before she even spoke.

"Rose, please tell me you did not steal this man's money," Sharma said, her voice tight with worry.

I rolled my eyes, clearly wounded that my best friend would even think of that. "Come on, Sharma. Why would I do something like that?! What is even wrong with you right now?"

Sharma turned back to the window and stared out for a long while before walking closer to me. "Okay, I'm sorry, but I'm confused. What do you want us to do? Why is he here? Who else could he possibly be here to see if not your dad?"

My heart pounded harder....she had a point.

I had literally just left his office that morning.

Even though he hadn't looked at me properly while handing over the money, I couldn't understand why he would show up at the hospital now.

Was he here to take the money back? Or had he finally realized I was the same girl who threw a drink in his face at the club?

I swallowed hard.

As much as I was doing all of this for my father, I wasn't scared of whatever he was bringing with him.

If he wanted another drink thrown in his face, he could get ready for round two.

"You know what, Sharma? I'm not doing this," I said, shaking my head.

Sharma grabbed my arm suddenly. "Wait. They're clearing the whole hallway that leads to us...Why are they clearing everywhere?!"

I looked and saw Drake's men moving through the corridor, clearing the path leading straight toward the wing where my father's room sat.

My heart slammed against my chest.

I turned back to Sharma, and for reasons I couldn't quite explain, real fear crept in this time.

This wasn't about me and Drake anymore.

This was my father's health on the line.

"Sharma, I think I need your help right now," I said quickly.

"Rose, there's no help in this," she said. "If you're thinking about the cap and glasses, they're in the car, and before I could even get there and back, you'd already be standing in front of that evil man and I love you so much to watch you die so simple."

I sighed, because she was right, and she never knew how to make a bad situation feel better. "No, that's not what I mean. I need you to do something for me.....I need you to pretend you're my dad's daughter."

Sharma frowned. "Didn't you just tell me you'd never let me do something like that?"

I gave her a long, pleading look, the kind that said everything without words, and she let out a breath. "Fine. Just for today."

"Thank you so much," I said, already turning toward my father's room. "I'll be inside with him. If anything happens, text me right away."

Sharma nodded and I hurried down the hall, slipping into my father's room and closing the door gently behind me.

I fixed my face into something calm before he could see any trace of worry.

I wasn't ready for him to find out I'd poured a drink on his boss's face at some club, that would ruin whatever peace he had left.

"Hey Dad, are you okay?" I asked, forcing a smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said. "I heard some noise outside when the door opened....Is everything alright?"

I hesitated, deciding how much to say. "Yeah, about that. Your boss is actually here at the hospital, and I don't really know why...."

His brow furrowed, clearly trying to remember if he'd done anything that might have brought Drake here.

Then something clicked in his eyes. "Oh, I remember now. His fiancée is here somewhere. He funds this hospital, that's why every staff member under him gets free entry here, I think his fiancée must be the one he's here to see."

I blinked, momentarily thrown off.

It wasn't sadness exactly, God knew I didn't care who he loved, but something closer to pity for whoever had agreed to be with a man like that.

How could someone that cold ever be loved, let alone love someone back.

I forced another smile. "Oh really? You think that's why he's here?"

Before he could answer, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I glanced down and saw Sharma's message, warning me that Drake was heading straight for the room and I needed to do something fast.

My whole body tensed.

"You okay?" my father asked, noticing my expression shift.

"Yeah, Dad, I just...uh...need the restroom really quick." I stuttered.

"There's one in the back of that curtain, but it's small. If it's too tight you can just head home for a bit," he offered.

"No, no, it's fine, I can manage," I said, already moving toward it before he could suspect anything.

I slipped inside and silently thanked whoever built this hospital for including a private bathroom in every room.

It was cramped, but I left the curtain slightly open, just enough to see through the crack.

Moments later I heard the main door open. Through the gap I saw Sharma walk in, followed by Drake.

My breath caught in my throat.

Even furious at him, I couldn't deny how good he looked, sharp suit, cold eyes, that same unreadable expression that made people shrink around him without him even trying.

For one stupid second I forgot to be scared.

Then his voice cut through the room, flat and commanding. "Mr. Norman."

"Oh, boss, good day. How are you doing?" my father said warmly, reaching his hand out for a handshake.

Drake didn't take it.

He didn't even glance at it.

I felt anger rise up in my chest watching him ignore something as simple as a handshake to an old, sick man lying in a hospital bed.

"I'm here to let you know," Drake said coldly, "that if you're not fit to return within two weeks, you'll need to submit your resignation before it becomes a problem for both of us. That's all."

My father nodded, still smiling despite it. "No problem, sir. Thank you for coming to check on me."

"I didn't come to check on you," Drake said. "I came to see my fiancée. Since I was already here, I figured I'd deliver the message myself." He paused. "And next time you send someone to my office, send someone actually presentable. Not some spy sneaking around trying to steal information."

My whole body went rigid where I stood.

That line was aimed straight at me and he didn't even know it yet.

My father tried to speak, but Drake raised a hand, cutting him off instantly. "I'm not finished. Don't interrupt me." He turned toward Sharma instead. "I don't know how you poor men raise your daughters, but someone should tell her that if she ever wants a man to marry her, she needs to fix how she presents herself. I won't tolerate someone looking like a spy walking into my office in broad daylight again."

I watched my father's face twist with confusion through the gap in the door, clearly caught off guard.

Drake turned like he was about to leave, but my father spoke up immediately. "I'm sorry sir, but I think there's some confusion here."

My heart nearly stopped in my chest.

Drake paused mid step and turned back slowly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

My father hesitated, and I silently begged him with everything in me to stop talking.

"That's not actually my daughter, sir," he said instead. "I think you might be referring to the wrong person."

The room went completely still.

My stomach dropped straight through the floor.

Drake's eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me I'm dumb? Because she clearly told me herself that she was your daughter."

My father let out a nervous laugh, trying to smooth it over. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I think there was a misunderstanding....She's not my daughter. She's my daughter's friend."

I watched something shift in Drake's expression through the crack in the door, the kind of quiet fury that came from being corrected, and from being made to feel foolish twice in the same week.

His jaw tightened, his hand curling into a fist at his side as he stepped closer to the bed.

"So you're telling me," he said, voice dropping low and dangerous, "that there's another woman running around pretending to be your daughter?!"

He leaned in closer to my father, his patience clearly gone. "Don't test me, Norman. Who, and where, is your actual daughter?!"