TAMED BY MY ALPHA BOSS

THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH

WELCOME HOME, ELENA.

The words remained on every computer screen in the executive office.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

I stared at the message until the letters began to blur. My heart was beating so hard that I could hear it in my ears.

Welcome home.

The words shouldn't have meant anything.

This was my first week at Wellspring Group. I had never worked here before. I had never even visited the building until the day of my interview.

So why would someone call it my home?

Damian was the first to move.

"Disconnect every computer from the network."

Mrs. Collins immediately reached for her phone.

"Already contacting IT."

"No," Damian said sharply. "Get them to shut down the entire executive network. I don't want a single device connected until we know what's compromised."

She nodded and left.

I continued staring at the screen.

"Damian."

He looked at me.

"How does someone know that?"

His expression remained hard.

"I don't know."

"They know my name. They know about my father. They knew I'd find the file. They even knew I was here."

"I know."

"Then how can you say you don't know?"

His jaw tightened.

"Because whoever is doing this has access to information that should be impossible to obtain."

I looked around the room.

"Maybe someone inside the company is helping them."

"That's what I think."

The answer came so quickly that I knew he had reached the same conclusion.

I folded my arms.

"Then Emily..."

"Don't accuse her yet."

I looked at him.

"You were the one who told me to call her."

"And now I'm telling you not to jump to conclusions."

I frowned.

"Why?"

"Because if Emily is involved, she's not working alone."

The room suddenly felt colder.

He walked toward the computer and examined the screen.

"Someone wants us to suspect her."

"And if she really is involved?"

"Then whoever is behind this wants us to discover her too early."

I stared at him.

"You think this is a trap."

"I think everything is a trap until proven otherwise."

For some reason, I believed him.

---

The IT team arrived twenty minutes later.

The entire executive floor was sealed off while technicians examined the computers, security systems, and network connections. Employees were instructed to leave the area, and within minutes, the usually busy floor became almost silent.

I stood near the window while Damian spoke with the head of security.

I couldn't stop thinking about my father.

Ten years ago, he had been standing in this same building.

He had worked for Damian's father.

He had been accused of stealing millions.

Then he disappeared.

And somehow, ten years later, I had been hired as Damian Blackwood's assistant.

It couldn't be a coincidence.

Someone had arranged this.

But who?

"Elena."

I turned.

Mrs. Collins stood behind me.

"Yes?"

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"Somewhere private."

She led me into a small conference room and closed the door.

Her expression was unusually serious.

"What is it?"

She sat across from me.

"I need to ask you something."

I nodded.

"Do you remember anything unusual about the period before your father disappeared?"

My stomach tightened.

"I was young."

"How young?"

"Nine."

She looked surprised.

"I was nine when he disappeared."

"And you remember nothing?"

I thought carefully.

"I remember my mother crying."

Mrs. Collins waited.

"I remember my father arguing with someone on the phone."

"Do you remember what he said?"

"Not everything."

I closed my eyes.

There was a memory buried somewhere deep in my mind.

A voice.

My father's voice.

If anything happens to me, don't trust—

I opened my eyes.

"What?"

Mrs. Collins leaned forward.

"I think I remember something."

"What?"

"My father told my mother not to trust someone."

"Who?"

"I don't know."

I pressed my fingers against my temple.

"I was too young. I couldn't hear everything."

Mrs. Collins studied me.

"Did he ever mention Wellspring?"

"No."

I hesitated.

"At least, I don't remember."

She nodded slowly.

"There's something you need to understand."

"What?"

"Your father wasn't the only person who disappeared around that time."

I stared at her.

"What do you mean?"

She lowered her voice.

"Three Wellspring employees disappeared within six months of the financial scandal."

My eyes widened.

"Three?"

"Your father was one of them."

"Who were the others?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Because those records were sealed."

"By whom?"

She didn't answer.

The door suddenly opened.

Damian stood there.

"Mrs. Collins."

She immediately stood.

"Sir."

"Leave us."

She glanced at me.

Then she left.

Damian closed the door.

I looked at him.

"What aren't you telling me?"

He didn't answer.

"Mrs. Collins just told me three people disappeared."

His expression changed.

"She shouldn't have."

"Why?"

"Because you don't need more questions right now."

I stood.

"I've been asking questions since I walked into this company."

He remained silent.

"And every time I get close to an answer, someone tells me to stop."

"Because you're putting yourself in danger."

"Maybe I already am."

He looked at me.

"You are."

The words were quiet.

But they carried more weight than anything else he had said.

---

The silence between us lasted several seconds.

Then Damian walked toward the table and placed a folder in front of me.

"Open it."

I hesitated.

"What is it?"

"Your employment records."

I opened the folder.

My application was inside.

My résumé.

My university information.

My references.

Everything looked normal.

Until I reached the final page.

There was a handwritten note.

I frowned.

"I didn't write this."

"I know."

I looked at Damian.

"What does it say?"

"Read it."

I looked back at the page.

The handwriting was old and slightly faded.

But I recognized it.

My heart stopped.

It was my father's handwriting.

If Elena ever comes to Wellspring, protect her.

I couldn't breathe.

I looked up.

"When was this written?"

"Ten years ago."

My fingers trembled.

"Why would he write this?"

"I don't know."

"You must know something."

"I don't."

"Damian."

He stepped closer.

"I swear to you, Elena, I didn't know your father had left that message until this morning."

I searched his face.

For some reason, I believed him.

But that created another problem.

If Damian hadn't known...

Who had placed the note in my employment file?

---

That evening, I refused to go home alone.

Damian arranged for security to drive me to my apartment, but I hated how helpless the situation made me feel.

I had accepted a job.

That's all.

I hadn't expected secret files, anonymous threats, or a mystery involving my dead father.

When the car stopped outside my building, I looked at the security officer.

"Thank you."

He nodded.

I stepped out.

Then stopped.

Something was wrong.

My apartment door was slightly open.

I knew I had locked it that morning.

My heart began pounding.

I turned toward the security officer.

"Stay here."

He immediately stepped forward.

"Don't go inside."

But before he could stop me, I noticed something on the floor inside.

A photograph.

I knew it immediately.

My father's photograph.

I picked it up.

On the back was another message.

YOU'RE LOOKING IN THE WRONG PLACE.

I stared at it.

Then my phone rang.

Unknown number.

I answered.

"Hello?"

For several seconds, there was only silence.

Then a distorted voice spoke.

"You want to know what happened to your father?"

My breath caught.

"Who are you?"

"You've been asking the wrong people."

"What do you want?"

A quiet laugh came through the phone.

"I want you to stop trusting Damian Blackwood."

My heart tightened.

"Why?"

"Because he knows more than he's telling you."

I looked toward the security officer.

"Tell me what you know about my father."

The voice became quieter.

"Your father didn't disappear."

I froze.

"What?"

"He was taken."

My fingers tightened around the phone.

"Taken by who?"

The line went silent.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

Then the voice returned one last time.

"Ask Damian what happened on October 14, 2016."

The call ended.

I stood frozen outside my apartment.

October 14.

The date on the photograph.

The date my father's life had supposedly changed forever.

I turned toward the security officer.

"Take me back to Wellspring."

He looked surprised.

"Miss Field, it's almost midnight."

"I don't care."

"Mr. Blackwood instructed us to take you home."

"I know."

I looked down at the photograph.

"But I need to ask him something."

---

When I returned to Wellspring, the building was almost completely dark.

Damian was still there.

He was standing alone in the executive office, looking through old documents.

He looked up when I entered.

His expression immediately changed.

"What happened?"

I placed the photograph on his desk.

"I received another message."

His eyes moved to the picture.

"What did they say?"

I looked directly at him.

"They said my father was taken."

His face went still.

"They told me to ask you about October 14, 2016."

For several seconds, Damian didn't move.

Then he slowly sat down.

I had never seen him look so shaken.

"What happened that day?"

He stared at the photograph.

Finally, he whispered:

"Your father wasn't supposed to disappear that night."

My heart stopped.

"Then what happened?"

Damian lifted his eyes to mine.

"Your father came to me because he had discovered who was stealing from Wellspring."

I held my breath.

"Who?"

He looked toward the closed office door.

Then back at me.

Before he could answer, the lights went out again.

A second later, Damian's phone lit up.

One new message.

He read it.

His face went completely pale.

I stepped closer.

"What does it say?"

He turned the screen toward me.

There was only one sentence.

SHE'S NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO CAME BACK.

And beneath it was a photograph.

A photograph of a woman standing outside Wellspring Group.

A woman I had never seen before.

But Damian clearly had.

Because the moment he saw her face, he whispered a name.

"Victoria."

I looked at him.

"Who is Victoria?"

Damian didn't answer.

He simply stared at the photograph as though he had just seen a ghost.

And for the first time, I realized that whatever happened ten years ago wasn't buried in the past.

It had been waiting for us.