Chapter4
1083 Words
Late Nights and Hidden Truths
The next week unfolded in a quiet rhythm—one that soothed Alfred and terrified him in equal measure.
His mornings belonged to the city, where the board members scrutinized every financial report and pushed for expansions he barely approved. His evenings belonged to Ridgeview, where streetlights glowed like warm lanterns and no one looked at him like a walking vault of billions.
And in every spare moment, he found himself thinking about Catherine.
More than he should.
More than he planned.
More than he could safely allow.
A Conversation That Shifted Everything
It was Thursday night when she called again.
Alfred had just finished cooking chapati—well, attempting to. The first one looked like a wrinkled map of Africa, the second slightly resembled a shoe sole, and the third was almost edible. He was laughing at himself when the phone vibrated.
He wiped flour off his cheek before answering.
“Hey,” he said softly.
Catherine’s voice was gentle, curious. “Are you home?”
“Yeah,” he said, glancing at his culinary disaster. “Trying to make chapati. Trying is the key word.”
She burst into laughter—warm, musical, the kind of laugh that made him want to try again just to hear it.
“Oh no… send a picture,” she teased.
“No,” he said quickly. “This is the evidence that gets a man arrested.”
“Now I have to see it,” she insisted.
He shook his head, smiling despite himself.
“No chance.”
“Fine,” she said dramatically, “I’ll just assume you created a national crisis.”
He could hear the smile in her voice.
There was a pause, comfortable and slow.
“Alfred… can I ask something?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation.
“You always look… calm. Even when everything at work is chaotic. How do you do that?”
For a moment, he didn’t answer.
Not because he didn’t have an answer—but because the truth wasn’t one he could share.
He took a breath.
“Some places drain you,” he said softly. “And some places… refill you.”
She was quiet, then asked, “And Ridgeview is that place for you?”
His heart stopped.
He hadn’t told her where he lived.
He hadn’t told anyone.
“How did you…?” he began.
She laughed sheepishly. “Relax. I didn’t stalk you. I heard you mention it to HR about your commute.”
He exhaled, relief washing over his face.
“Yes,” he admitted finally. “Ridgeview helps me breathe.”
“And you deserve that,” she said gently. “You work too hard.”
If only she knew.
If only she knew that he wasn’t a manager at all.
If only she knew that he signed paychecks for ten thousand employees.
If only she knew that his decisions could shift markets.
But he couldn’t tell her—not yet.
Not when she looked at him like a normal man.
Not when her concern wasn’t for his money, but for him.
So he chose the safest answer.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “That… means a lot.”
Boardroom Storms
By morning, the softness of her voice was replaced by the sharp edges of the boardroom.
Alfred sat at the head of the long mahogany table, staring down at the projections flashing across the screen.
The head of operations, a stiff man named Garrison, cleared his throat.
“Sir, the board is concerned about your prolonged absences from HQ. We require stronger physical leadership presence.”
Another board member, Regina, added, “We hear rumors you moved out of the city. Is that true?”
Alfred’s jaw tightened.
His life was split down the middle—Ridgeview on one side, the empire on the other.
One fed his heart.
The other fed the world.
“Yes,” he answered, voice calm but firm. “I moved. My personal life is not up for discussion.”
Regina exchanged a look with Garrison.
“Your personal life,” she said pointedly, “affects the company when you are the sole owner without an heir.”
He froze.
There it was—the pressure.
The expectation.
The weight of legacy being thrown at him like a anchor.
“We need assurance,” Garrison said. “That you’re committed. That your priorities—”
“My priorities,” Alfred cut in smoothly, “are exactly where they need to be.”
But inside, his mind raced.
They were watching him too closely.
Any slip could lead them to Catherine.
And he would not let the board, or his family, dissect her life the way they dissected his.
Back in Ridgeview
That night, Alfred sat on his porch again, nursing a cup of tea. The air was crisp, and the moon cast a soft glow on the quiet road.
He pulled out his phone.
He didn’t want to involve her.
He didn’t want to drag his chaos into her peaceful world.
But he wanted to hear her voice.
He wanted to feel grounded again.
He dialed.
She picked up on the second ring.
“Hey,” she said gently. “Rough day?”
He didn’t know how she always knew.
But she did.
She always did.
“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back. “One of those days.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He hesitated.
He wanted to tell her everything.
He wanted to confess that he wasn’t who she thought he was.
He wanted to tell her that his entire world felt like a house of cards built on lies.
But instead, he said:
“Not tonight.”
“Okay,” she replied, voice warm and steady. “Then just stay on the call with me. You don’t have to say anything.”
He closed his eyes.
That was all he needed.
Someone who didn’t push him.
Someone who didn’t want anything from him.
Someone who simply stayed.
As their quiet breathing filled the line, Alfred realized something with a clarity that shook him:
He could not lose her.
Not to the board.
Not to his family’s expectations.
Not to the lie he was living.
And when he had to choose between the life he was born into and the life he was building with Catherine…
He already knew which one he wanted.
- Writer
