Past Midnight
1194 Words
CHAPTER 7
Dalton’s POV
The ride home was quiet, only the soft hum of the engine filling the space. I leaned back in the seat, tired but restless. Mr. Envo, my driver, glanced at me through the mirror.
“You had a long day, sir?” he asked in his calm voice.
I gave a short nod. “Yeah. One of those days where the numbers don’t make sense no matter how many times you look at them.”
He chuckled lightly. “Well, at least you’re home before midnight. Mrs. Angela will be glad about that.”
I smiled at that. He was right. Mrs. Angela, my chef, had been working with me for years. She had a way of grounding me without even trying.
The car pulled into the driveway, and I stepped out, loosening the tie around my neck. The house stood quiet, lights spilling from the wide windows. It always felt too big for one person, but it was home.
The scent of something warm and rich met me as soon as I stepped inside. Mrs. Angela was already in the kitchen, moving between the stove and the counter with her usual steady pace. She looked up as I walked in.
“Dalton,” she said with a smile, wiping her hands on her apron. “Right on time. I was beginning to think you’d change your mind.”
“I told you I’d make it tonight,” I said, hanging my jacket on the chair. “Didn’t want to waste your effort.”
She shook her head with that knowing look she always had. “You never waste it. But it’s nice to have you sit at the table for once, not just running out with a coffee in your hand.”
I chuckled. “Fair enough.”
She had been here long enough to see every stage of my life, through deals, losses, late nights, and the quiet mornings that followed. There was comfort in that, a kind of stability.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I told her. “Let me change first.”
Upstairs, I loosened the rest of my clothes and changed into something simple, sweats and a black shirt. When I came back down, the table was already set neatly, like it always was when she knew I’d be home.
Dinner was warm and filling, though I ate slowly. Mrs. Angela didn’t hover; she just moved quietly in the kitchen, humming under her breath.
When I was done, I thanked her, and she gave me a small smile before turning back to clean.
The gym was on the other side of the house, glass walls looking out into the yard. I switched on the lights and started my routine—weights, push-ups, the usual. I liked the burn, the silence, the way it shut everything else out.
By the time I was cooling off, towel around my neck, my phone buzzed on the bench beside me. At first, I thought it was one of the company alerts. But when I picked it up, I froze.
The name flashing on the screen was one I didn’t expect at this hour.
Madison.
For a second, I almost didn’t answer. But curiosity got the better of me. I swiped and lifted it to my ear.
“Hello?” I said carefully.
There was a pause, soft breathing on the other end. Then her voice.
“Dalton… it’s me.”
I sat on the bench.
“Yes,” I said, breathing out. “What is it?”
“I’ve been going through the files for the case,” she said quickly. “And… some things aren’t adding up. I thought maybe I was just tired, but I checked again, and… Dalton, it looks like some documents don’t match. A few numbers are off, and a section is missing.”
I sat back against the gym wall, my hand tightening around the phone. “Missing?”
“Yes. The timeline doesn’t flow. And I wanted to ask… did you give Mr. Carter some of these files?”
Had I given him some of the files? Of course I gave him all the needed files, so what other files might she be talking about.
That left me confused.
“I guess I gave him all the files.”
She went quiet for a while. I could hear her flipping through papers maybe. Then she said, “Strange. Because it feels like something was passed to him directly. That’s why I asked.”
My jaw tightened. Carter. I trusted him once.
I tried to shake it off. “Do you usually work this late?” I asked, changing the subject.
“No,” she said with a tired laugh. “I just wanted to get some parts of the file done. The more I look, the less it makes sense.”
I rubbed my temple. Her voice sounded too tired for the hour. “Madison, it’s not safe for you to be out that late. Try to wrap up and head home.”
There was silence again, like she was caught off guard by my concern. “I will,” she said softly.
We ended the call. I stared at the phone longer than I should have, asking myself why I was even meddling in her business. She could handle herself she wasn’t my responsibility.
I went upstairs, took a quick shower, and changed into fresh clothes. The thoughts of what Madison called for sat heavy in my chest. I need a drink.
I took out my phone to call Adrian.
Adrian wasn’t just a friend. he was the closest thing I had to a brother. We’d known each other since childhood, long before the weight of expectations.
Our parents were close, and somehow, that bond passed on to us. Unlike most people in my world, he never tried to pretend around me.
I called him, and an hour later we were seated in a quiet bar corner, glasses between us.
Adrian looked at me like he always did, like he could see straight through me.
“You look off,” he said, raising a brow.
I gave a half-smile. “Do I?”
“You do. What’s wrong?”
I hesitated, then let it out. “I’m starting to suspect the law firm handling one of my project’s legal issues. Something’s not right with the boss. I don’t have proof yet, but… my gut says I should start digging.”
Adrian leaned back, eyes sharp. “You’ve always had a good gut. If you’re feeling this, don’t ignore it.”
“I won’t,” I said, taking a sip. “I’ll look into it myself.”
We talked a little longer, business, old times, nothing too heavy. When Adrian finally left, I stayed behind. I walked outside the bar, the night air cooler than I expected. I needed space to think, so I took a slow stroll down the sidewalk, looking up at the stars.
That’s when I saw her.
Madison.
Standing across the street.
My chest tightened, my steps slowing.
What the hell was she doing here?
- Writer
