Chapter 14: Unraveling Ties

John's POV

The days after Isabella's brief appearance in the conference room felt like a blur.

One afternoon, Marcus nudged me. “You’ve been weird since she got here, man. You know her or something?”

I forced a laugh. “No. Just... something about her throws me off.”

He arched a brow. “You sure? She seemed like she recognized you too.” I didn't reply.

“You good?” Marcus asked, leaning against my office door.

I looked up too fast. “Yeah. Why?”

“You spaced out twice during the morning meeting.”

I forced a shrug. “Didn’t sleep well.”

Which was true, but not the whole truth.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Or worse—felt something I couldn’t explain. Like I’d lost something I didn’t know I had.

As I left the conference room that day, I wasn’t really paying

attention to where I was going, absorbed in my thoughts. And then, just as I rounded the corner, I nearly bumped into her. Isabella.

We both froze.

She blinked, briefly meeting my gaze before quickly looking away, as though she was just as flustered as I was. “Yes, well... I’ll leave you to your... work,” she said, her voice softer than usual, before she moved past me.

I watched her go, the tightness in my chest only growing. What was that? I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just a coincidence.

Every encounter with her felt like déjà vu. I tried to push it aside, telling myself I was imagining things, but her presence lingered She was standing by the elevator, talking to one of the engineers. The moment my eyes landed on her, my heart skipped a beat. I stopped dead in my tracks.

There she was. Isabella.

I had been trying to avoid her. Trying to bury the questions that kept rising in my mind. But seeing her again, the way she stood there, so poised and calm, unsettled me. I couldn’t figure out why. The way she carried herself, the confidence in her movements—it all seemed so... familiar.

It was as if every time I saw her, a piece of me was reminded of something I couldn’t remember. A memory locked away. A face I couldn’t place.

And then, it happened again.

It was another ordinary day when I saw her standing by the elevator again. This time, I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t feel the pull. I walked toward her, deliberately, like I was trying to figure out if I could really trust my instincts. Was I imagining this connection?

“Isabella,” I called out before I even realized what I was doing.

She froze. Then, slowly, she turned to face me, her expression polite but guarded. “Yes, Mr. McQueen?”

I stopped in front of her, trying to keep my voice steady. “I was hoping we could have a word.” I didn’t know what I expected to come of it, but I couldn’t keep playing these games in my head. I needed to know what was going on.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded. “Of course, Mr. McQueen. Right this way.”

I followed her down the hallway, my mind working in overdrive. This was it. I was going to get to the bottom of this strange feeling. I had to know why she was affecting me so much.

We reached a quieter part of the building, and I stopped. My voice felt heavy in the air. “I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen you before,” I said, my words barely above a whisper. “Do you—do you feel the same way?”

She turned to face me, and for a moment, I thought I saw something shift in her expression. But she quickly masked it, her face going blank. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

I didn’t buy it. There was something she was hiding. Something about her wasn’t adding up. And I was determined to find out what it was.

The words slipped from my lips before I could stop myself. “Are you sure? Because something about you... it feels like I’ve known you forever.”

She didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze darted to the ground before meeting mine again. There was an uncertainty in her eyes now, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something vulnerable. But then, just as quickly, it disappeared.

“I’m sorry, Mr. McQueen. I think you’re mistaken.”

Her words were polite, but I knew she was lying. I saw it in the way she held herself, the way her eyes avoided mine for just a moment too long.

I couldn’t let this go. I wasn’t sure what this was, this strange feeling that had me tangled up in confusion and curiosity, but I knew one thing for sure: I wasn’t going to stop until I figured it out.

I didn’t know what the hell was happening.

I didn’t know if I was losing my mind or finding something I’d buried too deep.

But I knew this:

Isabella was at the center of it.

And I wasn’t stopping until I got answers.

That night, I found myself scrolling through staff profiles again.

Isabella Evans. No social media. No public history before two years ago.

Who are you?

I stayed late that night, long after everyone else had left. The building was quiet, the hum of my laptop the only sound.

I pulled up her file. Isabella Evans. Her resume was perfect—too perfect.

I zoomed in on the P*F version of her resume, eyes scanning line by line. Everything was pristine—no typos, perfect formatting. Too perfect.

Then something caught my eye.

In the certification section, one of the references listed a university ID code. I copied it into the registry database to confirm.

> “No match found. Please check the code and try again.”

Weird.

I tried her listed degree program. It didn’t exist at that university.

I frowned, copying her work history into the company’s verification tool. Another red flag—her supposed employment at a nonprofit? No digital footprint. No address. The website listed on her resume was offline.

No LinkedIn. No I*******m. No press mentions.

Just two years of existence and a phantom past.

My heart rate picked up again.

She wasn’t just familiar—she was hiding something.