As we were leaving the restaurant, I noticed a group of photographers hanging around outside. At first, I didn’t think much of it. There was a nice hotel next door, and I figured they must be waiting for some celebrity to arrive.
But as we got closer, I realized that they were looking at us. And as soon as we stepped outside, they descended on us like vultures.
“Ms. Moore, how does it feel to have deceived the CEO of Harper Industries for four years?” one of them asked.
Another one shoved a camera in my face. “Do you have any comment on the story that was released this morning?”
I was stunned. I had no idea what they were talking about, but it was clear that something had happened. And whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
Zachary put his arm around me and pulled me close. “Get out of our way,” he growled, pushing through the crowd of photographers.
They followed us down the sidewalk, shouting questions and snapping pictures. Zachary quickened his pace, and I struggled to keep up with him in my high heels.
Finally, we made it to the car, and Zachary all but shoved me inside before climbing in after me. He locked the doors and started the engine, peeling away from the curb and leaving the paparazzi behind.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded, looking over at Zachary angrily.
“I don’t know,” he replied, his jaw clenched. “But I intend to find out.”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. A moment later, I heard a voice on the other end.
“Hey,” Zachary said. “Did you see the newspaper this morning?”
There was a pause, and then the voice spoke again.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Zachary said. He paused again, then continued. “No, I don’t know who could have done it. But I’m going to find out.”
There was another pause, and then Zachary hung up the phone and tossed it onto the dashboard.
“Who was that?” I asked.
“My head of security,” he replied. “He’s going to look into it and find out who sold the story.”
I was silent for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. Someone had sold our storythe story of how Thomas was really Zachary’s son to the press. And now our pictures were splashed across the front page of the newspaper for the whole world to see.
“Who do you think did it?” I asked finally.
Zachary was silent, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. Finally, he spoke.
“I don’t know. But when I find out, they’re going to regret ever crossing me.”
I couldn’t believe what was happening. How did the press find out? And how did they get those pictures?
“Caitlin.” Zachary’s voice brought me out of my thoughts.
“Huh?” I turned to look at him, and my breath caught in my throat. His expression was stormy, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.
“We need to leave,” he said, putting the car in drive.
“Leave?” I echoed, confused. “What are you talking about? Leave where?”
“Your apartment,” he clarified. “We need to go somewhere safe.”
“Somewhere safe?” I repeated, my confusion growing. “Zachary, what’s going on?”
“There are reporters swarming your apartment complex,” he told me. “My head of security just called and told me. We need to get you and Thomas somewhere safe.”
My heart sank. Thomas. What if they tried to talk to him? What if they scared him?
“Okay,” I said, trying to stay calm. “Where are we going to go?”
“My house,” he replied.
I hesitated. “I don’t know, Zachary. That’s a pretty long commute for me to get to work.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he assured me. “Just until we can figure out what’s going on and make sure you’re safe.”
“Okay,” I agreed. I didn’t like it, but I knew he was right. We couldn’t go back to my apartment, not with all those reporters there. And I didn’t have any other options.
As Zachary drove, I stared out the window, lost in thought. Who could have betrayed us like this? And why? What did they have to gain?
I didn’t have any answers, and it scared me.
We pulled up to the gates of Zachary’s house, and he pressed a button on his dashboard. The gates swung open, and he drove through.
As we made our way up the long driveway, I couldn’t help but marvel at the house. It was huge, with a perfectly manicured lawn and beautiful gardens.
Zachary pulled the car to a stop in front of the house and shut off the engine. I looked over at him, but he was staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable.
“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching over and putting my hand on his arm.
He flinched slightly at my touch but didn’t look at me. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice cold.
I frowned, feeling a pang of hurt. But I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I needed to focus on keeping Thomas safe.
I opened my door and got out of the car, walking around to Thomas’s side. I unbuckled him from his seat and lifted him out, setting him down on the driveway.
He looked up at the house and his eyes widened. “Wow,” he breathed. “This house is huge!”
I smiled, despite my worry. “It is, isn’t it?”
Zachary got out of the car and joined us. “Come on,” he said gruffly. “Let’s go inside.”
I took Thomas’s hand, and we followed Zachary into the house. As we stepped inside, I couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. The house was even more impressive on the inside than it was on the outside.
There was a sweeping staircase in the entryway, and the floors were made of beautiful hardwood. Everything was tastefully decorated, from the artwork on the walls to the furnishings.
I felt out of place in my simple sundress and sandals. But I pushed the feeling aside and focused on Thomas. He was clutching my hand tightly, looking around with wide eyes.