Chapter 13
1307 Words
Storms Beneath the Surface
The rain began before dawn—soft at first, the kind that whispered against rooftops and lulled the town of Ringwood Ridge into a slow awakening. But by mid-morning, the clouds had assembled into an army, and the sky broke open in a steady, drumming downpour.
Catherine stood by her small living room window, arms wrapped around herself as she watched the storm roll across the hills. She didn’t usually mind rain; she found comfort in its rhythm. But today, a heaviness pressed on her chest—a feeling she couldn’t quite name.
A feeling she suspected had everything to do with Alfred.
The secrets.
The silences.
The things he said—and the things he didn’t.
Her instincts were rarely wrong, and lately her instincts were screaming.
She heard the sound of footsteps on her porch, soon followed by three sharp knocks. Catherine blinked and hurried to open the door.
Alfred stood outside, drenched despite the umbrella in his hand. His shirt clung to his chest, his hair dripped rainwater down his temples, and his eyes—usually bright with warmth—looked almost tortured.
“Morning,” Catherine said softly, stepping aside. “You look like you sprinted here.”
“I… sort of did.” He set the umbrella by the door and sighed, chest rising and falling with unspent nerves. “I needed to see you.”
Something inside her tightened. “Is everything okay?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked toward the fireplace and crouched to warm his hands, his shoulders tense. Catherine watched him for a moment, biting back the urge to ask again.
Finally, he turned to her.
“Catherine… there are things I need to tell you.”
Her heart lurched. This was it. The moment she had sensed coming—dreaded yet needed.
“Okay,” she said calmly, though her pulse thundered. “I’m listening.”
He opened his mouth—then shut it again, as if the words were heavy enough to drag him down. She stepped closer, gently touching his arm.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
His eyes softened at her touch, but the guilt behind them remained.
“I’m not who I said I am,” he said finally.
The words settled between them like a weighty stone.
“I figured,” she replied softly.
He blinked, startled. “You… did?”
She nodded. “People slip up, Alfred. You know things a small-town team manager wouldn’t. You disappear too often. You’re guarded—carefully. And you keep looking over your shoulder like someone might be watching.”
His breath hitched. “I tried to protect you. I thought if I told you too soon, I’d lose you.”
Catherine sank onto the sofa and gestured for him to sit beside her. He hesitated, then joined her.
“Start from the beginning,” she said gently.
He swallowed hard, then exhaled. “My full name is Alfred Harrington.”
The name hit her like a jolt—sharp, electric.
Her hand flew to her mouth. “The Alfred Harrington? Harrington Holdings?”
He nodded once, guilt heavy in his posture.
Catherine stared at him, a storm of emotions crashing inside her. Shock. Confusion. Anger. But beneath it all—hurt.
“You’re… a billionaire,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“And you pretended to be… what? A manager from the city?”
“I wasn’t pretending about the work,” he said quickly. “I do manage teams. I oversee operations. But I left the rest out because I didn’t want my world to swallow you.”
Catherine stood abruptly, pacing in front of him. “So all this time, you’ve been lying to me.”
“Not lying,” he said quietly. “Hiding. There’s a difference. A wrong one, yes. But one I thought would keep us safe.”
“Safe from what?”
Alfred hesitated, then rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms.
“My family. The board. The people who think I should only associate with partners who ‘benefit the company image.’” He spat the phrase with clear disgust. “They monitor everything. They dissect every decision I make.”
Catherine felt the sting behind her eyes but blinked it away. “And being with someone like me—someone normal—threatens that?”
“No.” He stood and went to her, gently taking her hands. “Being with you threatens their control.”
She looked up at him, searching his face. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because the moment I say those words—who I am—your life changes. People watch you. Judge you. Expect things from you. You lose privacy. You lose normalcy. And I didn’t want to take that from you.”
His voice cracked, and her heart softened despite the ache.
“You should have trusted me, Alfred. I don’t need luxury. I don’t need your wealth. I needed honesty.”
“I know,” he whispered. “And I’m sorry. More than I can say.”
Silence stretched between them—a fragile, tense silence broken only by the rain on the roof.
Finally, she asked, “So the town… the house… all this moving around—it’s because of your family?”
He nodded. “They meddle. They interfere. They think they’re protecting the empire. But sometimes…” He stepped back, pain shadowing his eyes. “Sometimes, I think they’re protecting it from me.”
Catherine’s breath caught. “Are they trying to take the company?”
Alfred didn’t answer immediately.
Then: “Yes.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh.”
“They’re building a case,” he continued softly. “Claiming I’m distracted, unfit, reckless. They want to force a board vote. And if they get enough signatures, they can remove me from my own position.”
Catherine stared at him, stunned. “Because of us?”
“No,” he said firmly. “Because they want control. I’m just giving them ammunition by living a double life.”
She shook her head slowly, overwhelmed. “You should have told me. I could have supported you.”
“It wasn’t your burden to carry,” he murmured.
“That’s not your decision to make.”
He winced, but didn’t argue.
Catherine took a long breath, trying to steady herself. “Do you still want to be with me?”
He stepped closer, cupping her face lovingly. “Catherine… you are the only part of my life that feels real. The only person I’m myself with. I’d give up everything—every cent—before I let you go.”
Her eyes softened. “I’m not asking you to give anything up. I just want honesty moving forward.”
“You have it,” he promised. “Starting now. All of it. Whatever you ask.”
She held his gaze for a long, searching moment.
“Then tell me,” she said finally, “what’s the board planning next?”
Alfred exhaled shakily. “A meeting. In two days. They want to present the petition for my removal.”
Catherine’s heart froze. “Two days?”
“Yes.”
“And what will you do?”
Alfred looked out the rain-streaked window, jaw tight. “Fight. Every way I can. But I can’t do it alone.”
Catherine stepped closer, took his hand, and squeezed.
“Then you won’t be alone.”
His shoulders relaxed, relief washing through him.
But even as he pulled her into his arms, neither of them noticed the black sedan parked quietly across the street, its engine running, its windows tinted dark.
Watching.
Waiting.
Recording.
The storm outside was only the beginning.
- Writer
