chapter 5
961 Words
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Daisy hadn’t meant to snoop.
Truly. She was simply killing time.
After her unexpected, strangely vulnerable moment with Charles, things had settled back into routine—if “routine” meant constant meetings, a cascade of assistant glares, and the ever-present pressure of being shadowed by a man who both intimidated and intrigued her.
She hadn’t seen him since that day. Not really. They passed each other in corridors, nodded in briefings, traded occasional glances across polished boardroom tables.
But it was different now.
He had given her a glimpse. And she couldn’t unsee it.
So when Jenna asked her to wait in the records room while she retrieved some paperwork, Daisy didn't think twice.
Until she noticed the door at the back.
It wasn’t locked. It wasn’t labeled.
And it definitely didn’t look like it belonged to the usual records system.
Curiosity itched beneath her skin.
She opened it.
Rows of sleek cabinets. No dust. No clutter. No surveillance.
Private files.
Her fingers hovered, just for a second, before they landed on a drawer marked:
R.R. – Internal Incidents – 2016
Her gut tightened.
2016.
The year Charles’s brother died.
She shouldn’t.
She absolutely should not.
And yet—
She opened the drawer.
The files were organized and numbered, typed neatly, tagged with internal case codes. Most of them looked boring. HR complaints. Financial reviews.
Until she found one labeled:
CASE: 0416 – D. Robert / Logistics / Vehicle 79A – CLOSED
D. Robert.
Her breath caught.
Daniel Robert.
She slipped the file out and opened it.
The first page was a corporate incident report. Clinical. Cold. Not meant for outside eyes.
> “Employee: Daniel Robert – Logistics Associate
Date of Incident: April 12, 2016
Location: Midtown HQ Access Tunnel
Summary: Vehicle collision involving Daniel Robert en route to private residence.
Cause: System miscommunication – unscheduled exit gate malfunction.
Status: Fatality confirmed on site.
Conclusion: Classified as operational failure. Case closed under internal review.”
Daisy blinked, her pulse pounding.
There were signatures. Internal memos. Notes from a security manager who’d been “transferred” one month later.
And one line highlighted in red:
> “Under direct order from C. Robert, all incident footage is to be sealed and purged from standard employee access systems.”
He sealed the file.
Whatever happened that night, Charles hadn’t just grieved his brother. He’d buried the truth.
The air around her felt suddenly too tight.
Before she could read more, the door creaked behind her.
She slammed the drawer shut, shoved the file into her blazer, and spun around—face-to-face with Charles Robert.
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He didn’t say anything.
Didn’t blink.
Just looked at her, sharp and still.
Caught.
The worst part? He didn’t even look surprised.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice like steel wrapped in silk.
“Waiting for Jenna,” Daisy replied, heart hammering.
He stepped inside. Closed the door behind him. The space felt smaller now, the air heavier.
“That drawer’s restricted.”
“I didn’t know.”
His eyes narrowed. “You always know.”
She folded her arms. “Why hide it, Charles?”
“Because it’s personal.”
“You made it company property the moment you sealed it under a case number.”
His jaw flexed. “Is this how you get your stories? Trespassing and moral high ground?”
She held his gaze. “Only when the truth’s worth it.”
A long silence stretched between them. Tense. Electric.
“I should fire you,” he said.
“You won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you want me to see it,” Daisy said quietly. “You want me to know.”
He didn’t respond. But his silence said enough.
“I read the file,” she said. “The report doesn’t add up.”
“Because I made sure it didn’t.”
Her eyes widened.
He walked past her, stopped near the cabinet, stared at the drawer like it held ghosts.
“There was a glitch in the gate system,” he said. “He left late. I told him to take the private tunnel—it was supposed to be secure.”
“And it wasn’t.”
“No,” Charles said flatly. “The gate was scheduled for routine maintenance. No alerts went out. He was hit by an armored freight vehicle that thought the route was cleared.”
Daisy swallowed. “Why cover that up?”
“Because he died on Robert property. In a Robert vehicle. Following a Robert protocol.”
Her breath caught.
“It would’ve destroyed us,” he said. “Stockholders. Partners. Everything my father built. Everything I rebuilt.”
He turned to her then. “So I lied.”
There it was. The weight of it. The crack in the perfect image.
“You sacrificed the truth for legacy.”
“I sacrificed myself,” he snapped. “You think I sleep easy knowing I buried my brother under policy memos?”
His voice cracked.
And for a moment, the fire in Daisy dimmed.
She understood grief. She understood guilt. But this—this was self-destruction dressed as control.
“I’m not here to ruin you,” she said.
He met her gaze, exhausted and raw.
“Then what are you here for?”
She didn’t know anymore.
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That night, Daisy sat in her apartment, the file spread across her kitchen counter. She’d copied every page before returning it. She told herself it was for journalism, for the story.
But deep down, she knew better.
She wanted to understand him.
Charles Robert wasn’t the villain she’d expected. But he wasn’t innocent either.
And somehow, that made him more dangerous.
Because now… now she cared.
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- Writer
