Chapter 5: You Work for Me Now
1411 Words
“Someone has been using me to follow you.”
Silence filled the burner phone.
Then Sophia said, “Explain.”
Ethan sat behind the wheel across from the warehouse, the black case on the passenger seat.
“There are photographs inside. You leaving restaurants. Entering your office. Outside your apartment.”
Another pause.
“And?”
Ethan looked at the final photograph.
Sophia in the back seat of his Rolls-Royce.
Five words beneath it.
NEXT TIME, SHE DOESN’T ARRIVE.
“One was taken while you were in my car.”
Sophia’s voice became colder.
“What does it say?”
He read the message.
This time the silence lasted longer.
“Ethan, listen carefully. Do not take that case to Marcus.”
“If I don't, he’ll know something happened.”
“I don't care.”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever took those photographs already knows what car I drive. If I suddenly disappear with their package, I become part of whatever this is.”
Sophia said nothing.
Ethan continued. “I'll photograph everything, put it back exactly as I found it, and deliver the case.”
“No.”
“He already trusts me.”
“And that makes you useful.”
“That’s the idea.”
“It also makes you expendable.”
The word landed harder than Ethan expected.
Victor Lane had given him almost the same warning.
He looked toward the warehouse.
“I’ll call you afterward.”
“Ethan—”
“I know. Don't play hero.”
“You clearly have trouble following instructions.”
“Occupational hazard.”
She exhaled.
“Send me the photographs first.”
Ethan did.
Then he resealed the envelope, closed the faulty latch, and started the engine.
Marcus was waiting in his office when Ethan arrived.
No greeting.
No coffee.
His eyes went directly to the case.
“You have it?”
Ethan placed it on the desk.
“Exactly as requested.”
Marcus checked both latches.
“Did you open it?”
“No.”
The lie came easier than Ethan liked.
Marcus studied him.
“Victor say anything?”
“That you wanted it brought directly here.”
Nothing else.
Marcus finally relaxed.
“Good.”
He opened a drawer and removed an envelope.
Ethan didn't touch it.
“What’s that?”
“Your money from last night.”
Ten thousand dollars.
Sophia’s text returned to him.
If he offers you money before then, don't take it.
“I don't want it.”
Marcus actually laughed.
“Yesterday you wouldn't go upstairs without it.”
“Yesterday I thought I was pretending to be Olivia’s boyfriend for ten minutes.”
“And now?”
“Apparently I've been promoted to full-time fake boyfriend.”
Marcus’s expression tightened.
“Take the money.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Consider it a favor between old friends.”
That was a dangerous word.
Friends.
Marcus looked at him differently.
For a moment Ethan remembered the man from ten years ago—the struggling businessman who had eaten gas-station sandwiches in the passenger seat while Ethan drove them from one factory to another.
Before the mansion.
Before the private jets.
Before the lies became expensive enough to require employees to maintain them.
Marcus pushed the envelope back into the drawer.
“Suit yourself.”
The office door opened.
Olivia entered carrying a folder.
Her gaze moved between the two men.
“Everything okay?”
“Perfect,” Ethan said.
Marcus glared.
Before Olivia could ask, another voice came from behind her.
“I hope I'm not interrupting.”
Sophia.
Marcus stood too quickly.
“Sophia.”
She walked inside wearing a pale gray suit, calm enough to make Ethan nervous.
Her eyes met his briefly.
No acknowledgment of the photographs.
No mention of the threat.
Perfect.
Sophia turned to Olivia.
“I owe you an apology.”
Olivia stiffened.
“For last night.”
Marcus frowned.
“Sophia, you don't have to—”
“I accused my husband of having an affair with his assistant.”
The room became painfully quiet.
Sophia smiled.
“Apparently I misunderstood the situation.”
Her attention shifted to Ethan.
“After all, Olivia was with her boyfriend.”
Ethan felt Marcus watching him.
“Yes.”
Sophia nodded.
“Three months, wasn't it?”
Olivia recovered first.
“That's right.”
“Then congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Marcus looked as though congratulations might kill him.
Sophia walked toward the windows.
“I've been thinking about last night.”
That sentence frightened three people simultaneously.
“If Ethan and Olivia intend to continue their relationship, perhaps it would be easier if Ethan didn't spend every day attached to Marcus.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I'm taking your driver.”
“No.”
Sophia turned.
It was almost impressive how little emotion she needed to make the room colder.
“No?”
“Ethan has worked for me for ten years.”
“Anderson Energy employs him.”
“My company.”
“Our company.”
There it was.
Sophia walked to Marcus’s desk.
“I own forty percent.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Why?”
“Because I need him.”
Sophia gave him a curious look.
“For driving?”
Ethan nearly admired her.
Nearly.
Marcus understood the trap.
If he protested too strongly, Sophia would wonder why one chauffeur mattered so much.
If he allowed Ethan to work for her, the man who knew ten years of Marcus’s secrets would suddenly spend every day beside his wife.
“What happened to your drivers?” Marcus asked.
“I dismissed one.”
“Why?”
“He talked too much.”
Sophia looked directly at Ethan.
“I prefer discretion.”
Marcus’s expression became unreadable.
Olivia glanced at Ethan.
Ethan kept his face blank.
Marcus finally said, “How long?”
“Thirty days.”
“You're borrowing him?”
“If that's easier for you.”
It clearly wasn't.
But Marcus forced a smile.
“Fine.”
Sophia picked up Ethan’s car keys from the desk.
“Wonderful.”
She tossed them to him.
“Let's go.”
The elevator doors closed.
For the first time that morning, Sophia’s shoulders dropped slightly.
Ethan looked at her.
“You enjoyed that.”
“A little.”
“You just stole your husband's driver in front of him.”
“I reassigned corporate personnel.”
“You really are a CEO.”
She ignored that.
“Did Marcus open the case?”
“Not while I was there.”
“Did he ask whether you opened it?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I lied.”
Sophia looked at him.
“You’re becoming disturbingly comfortable with that.”
“I blame management.”
The elevator descended.
Thirty-eight.
Thirty-seven.
Sophia’s expression turned serious.
“The photographs you sent me weren't taken by a random investigator.”
“How do you know?”
“The one outside my apartment was captured from a restricted garage.”
Ethan frowned.
“And the photograph inside my car?”
“That angle could only have come from the vehicle’s internal security camera.”
His stomach dropped.
Marcus’s Rolls had built-in surveillance.
Only a small number of people had access.
“Someone accessed Marcus’s security system.”
“Yes.”
“And they're threatening you.”
“Yes.”
“Does Marcus know?”
Sophia looked toward the descending numbers.
“I don't know.”
That was somehow worse.
The elevator reached the lobby.
The doors opened.
Sophia didn't move.
“From now on, you don't take unexplained packages. You don't change routes without telling me. And if Marcus asks you to drive somewhere unusual, I know before the engine starts.”
Ethan studied her.
“This sounds less like chauffeur work every minute.”
She stepped closer and straightened his slightly crooked tie.
The simple gesture caught him completely off guard.
Her fingers lingered for half a second before she withdrew them.
“Get used to it.”
“Sophia—”
Her eyes met his.
“Starting today, Ethan Carter, you don't drive my husband.”
She walked past him toward the waiting Rolls.
“You drive me.”
And for reasons Ethan couldn't explain, that frightened him considerably more than the death threat.
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