Chapter 29

Diane's POV

I step into the office breathing heavily. I'm two minutes late to work. I did all I could to avoid it, and that included running from the compound straight to the second floor in heels.

Conrad won't go easy on me for being late. He doesn't care to know that I went to bed late, all because I was scared someone might break down my door and come for me after he left.

I drop my laptop on my table and try to catch my breath. I don't look in a mirror, but I know my hair is a mess already. I ran without putting it into consideration.

"Mr. Conrad would like to see you." A colleague walks up to me and says. It's bad that I don't know her name, and it's like that with the rest of them too. Months in this office and I'm still a stranger.

I smooth down my skirt, pat my hair twice, and give up on both. Then I pick up my phone from my bag. I already know the words Conrad will speak to me when I show up in front of him, which could be why I'm not fidgety. They won't be nice, I know. I tried to avoid this by not being late.

"Who is it?" I mumble when a notification pops up on my phone.

Unknown Number: I can see you had a nice night with Conrad last night.

My stomach drops to my toes. A nice night? I look over my shoulder, then at the glass walls, then at every face on the floor. Everyone is busy, or pretending to be.

I step into his office. The message came in at the right time. I plan to show it to him so he can see another reason for us to get to the root of the matter. My peace is at stake already.

"What happened to your manners?" I'm just about to acknowledge his presence when he asks.

He stands by the window and looks out, and all I can see is his back. If I hadn't come in alone, I'd have concluded the question wasn't mine to answer.

"I didn't get that." I speak in a low tone. I don't want him to think I'm ignoring him.

"You think it's okay to barge into my office when you could have knocked."

"My bad." I say, and gulp loudly afterwards.

There's no need to explain myself to him. I didn't mean to barge in. I was close to his door when the message came in, and I wasn't thinking straight after I read it, which is why it skipped my mind to knock.

"Such a thing mustn't repeat itself, or I might be forced to remind you that I'm still your boss."

"Gotten, sir." I speak under my breath.

"Who dropped you off at work?"

"My neighbor." I hesitate before responding.

Since he's standing by the window, he must have seen me get out of the car. He takes a deep breath and looks in my direction. It's time for him to ask why I came late.

"My cab didn't arrive on time, so he offered to drop me off." I tell him.

It's my little way of explaining why I'm late. He must have seen me run in after stepping out of my neighbor's car, so he shouldn't query me anymore.

"If I decide not to pay you in full for your services, am I wrong?" He asks, and I know exactly what he means by those words.

He needs to cut me some slack! I work my ass off for him as his secretary during the day, and at night I pleasure him, yet I get no special treatment! I wish I could say those words to his face.

My payment is at stake, so I decide to be quiet. He returns to his seat, and I'm sure I have a mild frown on. It's the only way I can protest for not being treated fairly.

"I got a message again from the same contact. I'm afraid we have to act fast." I tell him.

"How sure are we that your neighbor isn't the one behind those messages?"

"My neighbor?" I inquire.

"Yes, the one who was nice enough to drop you off at work."

Conrad is a joke. The neighbor in question only moved in twenty-four hours ago, and I've been getting texts from that number for more than forty-eight hours.

"You think my neighbor found a way to drop those documents on my table? You think he found a way to wipe off the CCTV footage in the office? You think he secretly followed me to your house and took pictures of me?"

"Tone is very important when you speak to me. I'm still your boss." He mentions. I'm not surprised he plays that card.

My neighbor isn't the culprit. I'm a hundred percent certain. I might have to figure out who it is on my own since he's of the opinion that it's my neighbor, and I won't try to convince him.

If he's done with me, I'd appreciate him telling me so I can take my leave. I'm not excited to be around him, and I don't think he's aware. I keep avoiding his eyes, and I have no plans to stop.

"You have nothing to worry about. I'm getting tired of telling you that. Keep ignoring the messages while I keep making moves underground, and if you think you can't, you can always change your contact."

"Yes, sir." I mutter. Not responding to his statements is an offense.

"I called you here for a different reason entirely. You might have to take your seat."

"I'll do just that." I grumble.

I have no choice but to sit right in front of him. It's impossible not to look in his direction or steal glances at his face while sitting there. He sounds like he wants to discuss something very important with me, and my heart picks up the pace before he says a word.