Hearts in Conflict

Chapter 3

I had said yes to Dalton but now sitting at my desk with a blank notepad in front of me, reality was starting to dawn on me. The words I should have been scribbling refused to come.

How was I supposed to get close enough to Hawthrone to understand what was really going on inside? I would need the juicy stuff.

The last few days I had started with the obvious. Public records, news articles, scraps of interviews but I kept running into the same brick wall. Polished answers and neatly tied-up explanations. Hawthrone biotech really knew how to keep its walls high.

Thelma had suggested the only way to get real answers was to get inside the company. But how? I wasn’t some biotech insider.

Dalton had connections, though. He’d promised to figure something out but hadn’t given me a reply yet.

And the CEO himself? He wasn’t known for mistakes. No scandals. No off the cuff remarks. Everything was just perfect.

I glanced up and caught Julian staring again, that smug expression glued on his face. For days now he’d been giving me that same look like he knew something I didn’t or worse like he was enjoying my unraveling.

I rolled my eyes, muttering under my breath. What a man.

Before I could wallow further, my phone buzzed against my desk. The screen lit up with Dalton’s name. I grabbed it fumbling to answer before it went to voicemail. He hadn’t been to work all day which explained the call.

I’ve got something for you, meet me at the coffee shop on fifth in twenty minutes. Don’t be late. Before I could ask my questions, the line went dead. Typical Dalton, always dramatic. I glanced at the clock. 11:47AM. If I left now, I could make it. I shoved my notebook into my bag ignoring Julian prying eyes and slipped out of the office.

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The coffee shop was a cozy, overpriced spot with exposed brick walls and the faint hum of indie music. Dalton was already there, tucked into a corner booth. He didn’t look up until I slid into the seat across from him.

“You’re late,” he said, though his tone lacked the usual bite.

“Traffic,” I lied, catching my breath. “What’s this about?”

He slid the envelope across the table. “Open it.”

What is with Dalton and always sliding folders, the last one was of no use.

I hesitated, my fingers brushing the worn edges of the paper. Inside was a single sheet, a printed email exchange between Dalton and someone named E. Carver. The subject line read:

Internship Opportunity Hawthorne Biotech.

My stomach twisted. “An internship? I almost laughed. “Dalton, I’m a journalist, not a lab tech.

“Exactly,” he said, leaning forward. “You’ve been hitting walls, right? This is your way in. Carver’s an old contact of mine is a mid-level exec at Hawthorne, owes me a favor. I pitched you as a bright, overqualified writer looking for a career pivot. They’re desperate for talent in their PR department and your resume checks out.

You start Monday.”

I stared at the email, my mind racing. An internship at Hawthorne Biotech? It was a golden ticket to the inside, but the thought of walking into the lion’s den made me a little hesitant. What if they figure out who I am? My name is not exactly obscure after all the articles I’ve written.”

Dalton’s eyes softened just for a moment. “That’s why you’ll use a pseudonym. Anna Miles. I’ve already set up the paperwork to keep your name clean. Carver’s discreet, won’t ask questions.

I swallowed hard, the weight of it sinking in. This wasn’t just a story anymore. It was personal, too personal.

“And if I get caught?”

“You won’t,” Dalton said, his voice firm. “You’re smarter than that. Just keep your head down, gather what you need and get out. You want answers about what happened to your father? This is how you get them.”

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By Monday morning I was Anna miles standing outside the sleek glass tower of Hawthorne biotech. My palms were a little sweaty as I adjusted the unfamiliar ID badge clipped to my blazer

It read Anna Miles, Public Relations Intern. It literally felt like wearing someone else’s skin.

The lobby was quite unfamiliar, employees in suits, scientists in crisp white coats. I followed the directions Carver had emailed taking the elevator to the 12th floor. The PR department wasn’t any difference from the office with the cubicles and glass walled offices and the clatter of keyboards and muffled phone conversations.

Anna Miles? Anna…. A woman’s voice snapped me out of my daze, it was still taking me a while to get used to my new name. She was tall with sharp cheekbones and had on this no-nonsense bob, her face scanning me like a barcode.

I’m Racheal Kwon, your supervisor. Welcome to the Chaos.

The chaos, I echoed trying for light humor.

Her lips twitched, not quite the smile I was expecting, “You’ll see soon enough.”

I forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as shaky as I felt. Thanks. Excited to be here

Racheal didn’t seem convinced but handed me a stack of folders anyway. Start with these. It nothing much just a few press releases and social media drafts. You’d shadow me for a week then we’ll see what you’re made of.

She moved briskly, pointing out desks, break rooms, the cafeteria, and finally my cubicle. It was a box of gray walls and fluorescent light but at least it had a window overlooking the city skyline. Still the day passed by pretty slowly in a blur of menial tasks. I found myself proof reading emails, formatting tweets and fetching coffee for what seemed like Racheal’s endless meetings.

At lunch, I slipped into the cafeteria hoping to take a break, I picked up a tray, grabbed whatever passed as food and settled into an empty chair. That’s when I saw him. Lucian Hawthrone. Striding past the glass door that separated the cafeteria from the main corridor. A cluster of men in expensive looking suits trailed behind him.

He stood out like a storm cloud clear in the blue sky with his tall frame and blue eyes that seemed to cut through a room.

I froze suddenly, the rest of the room blurring at the edges of my vision.

“Staring at the king, huh?”

A voice jolted me. A guy in a loose lab coat dropped into the chair across from me, flashing a crooked grin as he leaned forward. “Careful, newbie.”

I flushed, scrambling for my cover. “Just… curious. He’s kind of a big deal, right?”

The guy laughed, leaning closer. “Name’s Sam, biochem intern. And yeah, Lucian’s a big deal--big ego, too. You’re PR, right? Anna?”

I nodded, relieved to stick to my alias. “Yeah, first day.”

“Word of advice? Stay off his radar. He’s got enough sharks circling him already.”

I forced a laugh, but my eyes drifted back to Lucian as he strode past the cafeteria toward a glass-walled conference room. For a moment, his gaze flicked through the cafeteria and I could’ve sworn it lingered on me. My heart stopped. Had he seen me? Did he know?