7

Chapter 7:

Darcy's POV

After she adjusted her clothes and buttoned up, she left quickly, still shaking and tearful. I had somehow convinced Pink to let her go, though it hadn’t been easy.

Back in my office, my hands were trembling. Rage? Anxiety? Desire? I couldn’t tell which.

Pink was still in tears, her screams ranging constantly in my ears, cutting through the calm of my mahogany-paneled office like knives.

“What the hell was I thinking?” I muttered, loosening my tie in rough, frustrated movements. The silk felt suffocating, just like this entire situation.

Pink’s wails hit a higher pitch, and I flinched. In all my years running Rodrigo Enterprises through hostile takeovers, board rebellions, and market crashes, I had never hired someone with a criminal record. Not once. It was a principle I held sacred: If you have to work for me you must have a clean slate before employed. Pristine backgrounds. No complications.

And yet, Adrian Martinez sat in my conference room not an hour ago, with her grey, defiant eyes and that infuriating, confident smirk, and she had thrown my world into chaos with just her presence even when she was not dressed in gold or any accessories.

I walked over to Pink’s carrier. “Shh, girl. It’s okay.” My voice was tight, unconvincing.

My usually composed baby didn't listen to me. Her grey eyes wide and frantic. Even she seemed to sense the storm Adrian had brought.

“Mr. Rodrigo?” Mark’s voice came from the doorway. My assistant looked uneasy. “Is she not okay yet? The whole floor can hear… well…”

“No, Mark.” I ran my hands through my hair, probably ruining the careful styling I’d paid a fortune for this morning. “I just hired a convicted felon. Adrian. She'd been charged in the past for drug dealing. What’s next? Should I recruit from prisons?”

Mark stepped further into the room, his expression unusually thoughtful. “Sir, if I may… Pink’s reaction is unusual. I’ve seen her around hundreds of potential employees, and she’s never responded like this. Not even to people she simply dislikes.”

I fixed him with a sharp look. “Are you suggesting something?”

“Not suggesting, sir. Just observing. Animals often sense things humans can’t. Perhaps Ms. Martinez’s record isn’t the full story. Should i make investigations?”

Mark might be right, he usually is, which was why he’d stayed by my side for five years, despite his tendency to speak his mind when I least wanted it.

"Yes please, you can run some investigate on her."

But there was another thought that was eating me up. Each time, my mind slid on her curvy body, her breast and it aroused me more than I thought it would.

The desire I’d felt in that moment had been immediate, overwhelming, and completely unprofessional. I was Darcy Rodrigo. I didn’t get distracted by employees, especially not ones with criminal pasts.

My reputation was built on being cold, calculating, immune to such base impulses. Tabloids had called me the "Ice Prince of Corporate America" for a reason.

And yet, Adrian Martinez had shattered that ice with her body.

“Sir?” Mark’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Do you want me to prepare termination paperwork?”

The question hung between us. It would be logical. Safe. The right choice, by every business manual.

But something stopped me.

I went to my desk and pulled out her background check, which I had memorized by now. Adrian Martinez. Age 23. Former conviction: drug trafficking. Two years served, released a month ago on good behavior. Parole: active.

The facts were cold, black-and-white. But Mark’s words echoed: perhaps there’s more to it than what appears on the surface.

Pink had finally calmed to soft whimpers, and I studied every line of the file as if answers were hidden in the words. Why would a young woman risk everything for drug trafficking? Desperation? Greed? Or something else entirely?

I remembered her demeanor during the interview. She wasn't proud, she was intelligent, she spoke quite well and was reasonable.

There had been pain in her eyes, carefully masked but unmistakable. The kind of pain that came from surviving the impossible.

“Mr. Rodrigo?” Mark asked again. “What would you like me to do about Ms. Martinez?”

I looked at him, then back at the file. My instincts said I should not call her back, to protect the company and my reputation. But looking at my daughter who is still sobbing, a quiet voice whispered about second chances, about the possibility that people weren’t defined by their worst mistakes.

“I need coffee,” I said instead, avoiding the question. “The good stuff—from my private reserve.”

Mark nodded and moved to the kitchen area. While he prepared the coffee, I walked to the windows side and looked down at the city. People moved like ants, each carrying secrets, triumphs, and their failures.

“Here you are, sir.” Mark set the coffee on my desk. The aroma of Colombian beans filled the room.

I sipped, letting the warmth ground me. “Mark, in your opinion… can people really change?”

He blinked in surprise. “Sir?”

“Can someone leave their past behind and become someone better?”

Mark was silent for a moment. “Some can, sir. But it depends—do they want to change, or were they forced into situations they never wanted?”

Forced by circumstances. That word hit me. How many times had I done things I wasn’t proud of, driven by circumstances beyond my control? My father’s words echoed: “Be better than me, mijo. Learn from my mistakes.” He had built Rodrigo Enterprises through ruthless, questionable means. I had spent my life trying to succeed without compromising my principles.

But refusing someone a second chance was that , really principled?

I sat back at my desk, staring at Adrian’s file again. Drug trafficking. A serious charge. But what if Mark was right? What if there was more behind her story than the record showed?

My coffee had cooled while I wrestled with my thoughts. Part of me wanted to call security and escort her back to prison for coming close to my daughter as an ex-convict but another part wanted to call her back and demand her story. Her reasons. Her hopes. Her fears. The dreams she might have given up long ago.

---

Back to the penthouse,Pink had curled in her carrier, still crying as she seemed drained from the day’s chaos. Tears was still streaming down her eyes,

"Why are you still crying? Sweetheart you need to stop before you get sick," I carried her into my arms, which made her cry harder.

"I want that pretty aunty!" she sobbed, holding me tight. "Where is she? Why did she go away?"

My heart clenched. In three years, Pink had never asked for anyone like this. She'd always been content with me, with our carefully structured world. But now she was inconsolable, asking for a woman she'd known for mere hours.

"Pink, honey, she was just…"

"I want her! I want that pretty aunty!" Her crying got louder, more desperate.

I can’t deal to see her in tears so I tried everything. I played her favorite songs, gave her warm milk, even bribing her with promises of ice cream for breakfast. Nothing worked. She cried until she got and finally she fall asleep in my arms at nearly midnight, her face still stained with tears.

As I laid her gently in her bed, I couldn't shake off her reasons for wanting Adrian back, and also the image of how natural they'd looked together.

My phone vibrated on the desk, displaying Mark's name. I picked up right away, eager to learn if he had found any information that might clarify my predicament.

“Sir,” Mark's tone was sharp as If he hadn't slept a bit. “I’ve gotten new information on Ms. Adrian.”

“Spill,” I demanded, relaxing back into my chair, ready for whatever he was about to say.

“I contacted her parole officer Sir…” Mark hesitated, and I could hear the sound of papers being shuffled on his end. "Mr. Rodrigo… There's more to her case than what appears on paper. She was a fall guy. I thought it wise to inform you.”

"What?"

The words struck me hard. Maybe what I thought I knew about Adrian some weren't true, and a heavy feeling filled my chest.

I sank into my chair, starring into nothingness. A fall guy. Someone who had taken the blame for something bigger, someone who might be innocent of the worst charges on her record. Could it be true? Could the confident, guarded woman I’d met really have been dragged into circumstances beyond her control?

And if so… what should I do?

Mark cleared his throat. “Sir?”

I exhaled slowly. Yes," I said hoarsely. "Mark... find her address."

“Alright Sir,”

“We keep her. But I want everything monitored. Every move. I need to understand who she really is and why she was caught in this mess in the first place.”

“Understood, sir.”

I hung up, staring again at Adrian’s file , trying to separate fact from impulse. Part of me wanted to reject her, to maintain order and reputation. But the other part—I wanted to see if she was more than the mistakes that had brought her to my office at least for my girl who sees her beyond being an ex-convict.

The house is finally quiet. Pink had finally gone to sleep after my hard trials,I can't continue like this, I can't keep seeing her in tears. I would have to do something about it even if it is to bring Adrian to be her nanny.

I allowed myself a measure of clarity. Adrian Martinez was still a person whether ex-convict or not. And whether by fate or circumstance, she had just become a part of my life. Pink's life.

A very complicated, impossible part of my life.

And I had no idea how to handle it.