The CEO I Swore to Hate

The Warning

Chapter 3

I stared at the message on my phone.

Stop digging into Hartwell Industries, Amelia.

My fingers had gone numb.

The second message remained beneath it.

You have no idea what happened to your father.

I read it again.

And again.

Nothing about the words made sense.

Whoever sent them knew my name.

They knew what I was investigating.

And, most importantly, they knew about Hartwell Industries.

Alexander held out his hand.

"Give me the phone."

I hesitated.

"Amelia."

Something in his voice made me hand it over.

He studied the messages, his jaw tightening.

"Do you recognize the number?"

"No."

"Have you received anything like this before?"

"No."

"When did it arrive?"

"Just now."

Alexander looked toward the windows.

The office was almost completely dark now. The city lights outside reflected against the glass.

"How many people know you're investigating your father's company?"

"Nobody."

He looked at me.

"Nobody?"

"I haven't told anyone."

"What about your family?"

"My mother knows I applied for a job here, but she doesn't know why."

He handed the phone back.

"Then someone has been watching you."

A chill moved down my spine.

"How?"

"There are cameras everywhere in this building."

"You think someone inside the company is spying on me?"

"I think we shouldn't assume anything."

He walked to his desk and picked up his phone.

"Security."

A man's voice answered.

"Yes, sir?"

"I need the security footage from the last twelve hours."

"Which cameras?"

"All of them."

There was a pause.

"Understood."

Alexander ended the call.

I watched him.

"You seem calm."

"I'm not."

"You look calm."

"That's because panic doesn't solve problems."

I folded my arms.

"You always this controlling?"

"Usually."

"Must be exhausting."

His eyes met mine.

"You're still arguing with me after receiving a threat?"

"Would you prefer I cry?"

"No."

His expression softened slightly.

"I'd prefer you stay alive."

My heart skipped.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then I looked away.

"This doesn't change anything."

"What doesn't?"

"I still don't trust you."

"I know."

"And I still think you're hiding something."

"I am."

I looked at him sharply.

"What?"

"Everyone is hiding something."

He walked closer.

"But some secrets are meant to protect people."

"And some are meant to destroy them."

His eyes stayed on mine.

"Exactly."

The silence between us felt strangely intense.

I stepped backward.

"We should focus on finding whoever sent that message."

"We will."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You expect me to stay here all night?"

"No."

He grabbed his jacket.

"I'm taking you home."

I immediately shook my head.

"Absolutely not."

"Why?"

"Because I don't need my boss driving me home."

"Tonight, I'm not your boss."

"Then what are you?"

Alexander paused.

For a second, something unreadable crossed his face.

"Someone trying to keep you safe."

I didn't know what to say to that.

So I grabbed my bag.

"I can take a taxi."

"No."

"Alexander—"

"Someone knows where you work."

He stepped closer.

"If they know what you're investigating, they may know where you live too."

My stomach tightened.

"I hadn't thought of that."

"I know."

His expression softened.

"That's why you're coming with me."

Twenty minutes later, I sat in the passenger seat of Alexander's black car.

The city moved past us in a blur of lights.

Neither of us spoke for several minutes.

I stared through the window.

I should have been uncomfortable.

Instead, I found myself strangely calm.

Maybe because Alexander seemed completely focused on the road.

Or maybe because, for the first time, I didn't feel like I was facing this mystery alone.

I turned toward him.

"Did you really know my father?"

His hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

"Yes."

"How well?"

"Well enough."

"That's not an answer."

He sighed.

"Your father and I worked together for almost two years."

I stared at him.

"What?"

"Before the acquisition."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Because your father didn't want you involved."

"Why?"

"He was trying to protect you."

I laughed bitterly.

"Everyone keeps saying that."

Alexander glanced at me.

"It's the truth."

"Then why did you buy his company?"

"I didn't want to."

I froze.

"What?"

"I didn't want Hartwell Industries."

"Then why buy it?"

"Because your father asked me to."

The car suddenly felt too small.

"My father asked you to take his company?"

"Yes."

I shook my head.

"No."

"It's true."

"He would never do that."

"He did."

"Why?"

Alexander was silent.

"Because he knew someone was coming for him."

My chest tightened.

"Who?"

"I never found out."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I expect you to understand that I tried to help him."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Because your father made me promise."

"What promise?"

"That I would keep you out of it."

I stared at him.

"You've been protecting me for three years?"

He didn't answer.

That was answer enough.

I turned toward the window.

Everything I believed about Alexander was beginning to crack.

I hated that.

I wanted him to be guilty.

It was easier that way.

If Alexander was the villain, then I knew exactly where I stood.

But if he wasn't...

Then who had destroyed my family?

The car stopped outside my apartment building.

Alexander looked at the entrance.

"Is anyone expecting you?"

"No."

"Good."

I reached for the door handle.

"Thank you."

He nodded.

I stepped out.

"Amelia."

I turned.

"Lock your door."

"I always do."

"And don't open it for anyone."

"Alexander, I'm not a child."

"I know."

His gaze held mine.

"That's why I'm telling you."

I smiled despite myself.

"Good night, Mr. Blackwood."

"Good night, Amelia."

I walked toward the entrance.

Before I reached the door, I looked back.

His car was still there.

He was watching me.

I entered the building.

The elevator took me to my floor.

When I reached my apartment, everything looked normal.

I unlocked the door.

Nothing seemed out of place.

I switched on the lights.

Silence.

I dropped my bag onto the couch.

Then I noticed something.

A small envelope lay on the floor.

My heart stopped.

I hadn't seen it when I entered.

Slowly, I picked it up.

There was no name on it.

No address.

Nothing.

I opened it.

A photograph fell into my hand.

I stared at it.

My father.

Alexander.

And a third man.

I had never seen him before.

They were standing outside Hartwell Industries.

On the back of the photograph was a message.

Ask Alexander who I am.

My blood ran cold.

Then my phone rang.

Unknown number.

I stared at the screen.

It rang again.

I answered.

"Hello?"

For several seconds, there was nothing but silence.

Then a man's voice came through.

"You're getting too close, Amelia."

I couldn't breathe.

"Who are you?"

A low laugh.

"You really don't remember me?"

"No."

"You will."

The call ended.

I immediately called Alexander.

He answered on the first ring.

"Amelia?"

"I found something."

"What?"

"A photograph."

Silence.

"What photograph?"

"My father. You. And another man."

Alexander's breathing changed.

"Where did you get it?"

"Someone left it in my apartment."

"What?"

His voice became sharp.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"Lock every door and window."

"I already—"

"Amelia, listen to me."

His tone frightened me.

"Do exactly what I say."

I rushed to the door and locked it.

"Who is the man in the photograph?"

Alexander didn't answer.

"Alexander?"

Finally, he spoke.

"Send me a picture of it."

I took a photograph and sent it.

Seconds passed.

Then my phone buzzed.

His message appeared.

Don't leave your apartment.

Another message followed.

And don't trust anyone who tells you they know your father.

I stared at the screen.

Then another message arrived.

Especially me.

My heart sank.

I called him again.

He didn't answer.

I tried once more.

Nothing.

I looked at the photograph.

Three men—or rather, two men and my father—standing together three years ago.

And suddenly I noticed something I'd missed.

The third man's face was partly hidden.

But his watch was visible.

A silver watch with a distinctive black symbol.

I knew that symbol.

I'd seen it before.

On my father's desk.

In the last photograph ever taken of him.

My breathing stopped.

The third man wasn't a stranger.

He had been part of my father's life long before Alexander Blackwood ever entered it.

And if I was right...

the person threatening me wasn't looking for revenge.

He was trying to stop me from discovering who my father really was.