The Dark Secret of the CEO by Sofia de Orellana

“Hey, can you drive a bit faster mate?” Bart asks the driver. “We’re in a bit of a hurry.”

This is going to complicate everything. How the hell are we supposed to swindle Charles and

investigate all his crap if Rick’s already on it? And I can’t risk exposing myself or the Heartgraves. Who

knows how Rick would react to the change, too… Would he really recognize me? Minutes ago, I would

have thought it was impossible, but I still can’t doubt what my ears heard. How the hell would he have

recognized me…? I can’t wrap my head around it. I kept thinking about it for the whole trip. Our plan

was to get to Swithin’s office ahead of him, but now we’re late, and I find myself looking around, trying

to spot a bike in the midst of the cars heading to London.

Somehow, we manage not to cross paths with them, and by some miracle even arrive at Swithin’s

office first. Perhaps he purposefully took a detour. Bart walks in, and guides me through Swithin’s

office. There’s a little waiting salon first, with four chairs, a coffee table and some plants, and a little

desk for a secretary that’s apparently starting later in the day. Then, we got to his actual office. It’s

surprisingly spacious, with large windows onto the street. I just have time to glance around; I find it a bit

old-fashioned with wooden floors and old stylish furniture, contrasting with the high-tech equipment and

big leather desk chair, but it suits Swithin. I can’t help but notice there’s a brand new portrait of me, way

too big for comfort, right in the middle of the wall on his right… It’s definitely one of the portraits I shot

last night, but Cecily managed to make it look like it came from the official photoshoot of a Magazine,

truly professional and all. I’m amazed by how quickly they moved to have it printed, framed and hung

there overnight, but we don’t have time for questions. Bart opens a door on the side, which leads to a

small room, half a resting space and half a storage room. Every wall but the one with windows is

stacked with books or papers, and there’s a Chaise Lounge in the middle of it. Bart goes to lie on it

right away, taking out his phone.

“We made it,” he says. “They are two minutes away.”

I nod, but the stress rises up again. Rick wouldn’t barge into Swithin’s office or something, right? I keep

pacing around, grateful for the carpeted floor muffling the sounds of my heels.

Soon enough, we hear them. I hear Swithin apologizing loudly for the detour or some mistake he’s

made, his way of warning us. I stop my pacing, and stand with my feet planted in front of the door

instead, stressed out like crazy. I catch myself combing my hair back at least three times before I stop

and force myself to cross my arms instead. They walk in, chatting casually. Charles sounds fucking

light-hearted for someone who lost his “wife” not even a week ago… I hear the girl who was with him

giggle too, but while I do hear five pairs of footsteps, the other two remain quiet.

For a while, I listen to Swithin exchanging pleasantries with them, offering a coffee or tea, and inviting

them to his office. I would probably be much more pissed about Charles sounding so calm and

composed if I wasn’t also listening for a bike’s engine outside. And I do finally hear it. He parks about

two or three streets away I’d guess, but once the engine’s cut, that’s it; I can hear an engine but not

footsteps from so far… Frustrated, I have to focus on what’s going on next door when I hear Swithin

say my new name.

“…My niece, Hera. I really love this picture of her, I had it framed against her opinion. She’s truly a

talented model, as her doting uncle I can’t help but be proud… Although, I wish she had made wiser

decisions when it comes to her agency, her talent is wasted on them. I understand you’re familiar with

the Business, Mr. Williams?”

“She does look amazing, definitely some talent there, and I know the business!” Charles exclaims.

What a sucker. He only cared about the contracts, couldn’t see shit about any talent… He clearly hired

some of the girls based on their looks and his personal preferences, or let the managers handle it all.

“Right?” Sighs Swithin, playing his part perfectly. “Luckily, I’m busy representing her and trying to get

this damn agency to let her go, they are already in quite a financial mess anyway… But I digress, my

apologies. We should get to the matter of your fiancé’s property, Mr. Williams. I’m truly grateful you

came so fast, in fact.”

“I had to,” says Charles, suddenly sounding much less joyous. “Her family is grieving, her father Mr.

Starr entrusted me to take care of matters as best as I could as he trusts me completely.”

How fucking arrogant is he to throw my father’s name around… Swithin goes on to provide some legal

details about the flat, and I don’t understand half of that jargon. It lasts for a while, and all I can tell is

that Swithin is clearly working to entice Charles with the market value of that property, while smoothly

questioning him about his legal rights to my belongings. From the bit I can understand, I am quite

amazed about how he’s clearly setting the trap for Charles, not making him feel guilty at all for putting

his hands on my inheritance. I can guess the decades of experience by how he lets him dominate their

argument, carefully getting Charles to let out more about what exactly is going on with what should

never have been his…

“I’m still a bit surprised,” Swithin says. “I never knew Miss Starr had been married. She hadn’t gotten in

touch with us in quite a while, so we figured she had been busy, regretfully so. When we heard the sad

news, we genuinely expected her father, Mr. Starr would be the next-of-kin person for us to reach out

to. Miss Starr had left instructions. I hope you were not upset by our mistake.”

Gosh, making him feel superior by pretending he thinks he was the one in the wrong, while

aknowledging Charles’ fucking lie as if it was a truth set in stone… I don’t know if I should be impressed

or grossed out. Swithin’s spitting out lies and false truths like a venomous snake hunting a nasty rat.

“Oh, please don’t,” Charles sighs. “Like I explained, my fi- I mean, my wife was truly worried about the

media’s opinion. I tried many times to have her make our wedding public, assuring her that she had

nothing to hide, but unfortunately, the pressure from the press was too much. I tried to respect her

decision until the end, naturally. The lawyers back home are a bit fussy about it as well, it cannot be

helped. I only want the best for what my wife left behind, though. To be honest with you, all those

properties and money are really nothing to me, I just wish she was here with me. Sadly, this is my

burden now, I just hope to do what’s best.”

“That is so incredibly brave of you.”

I roll my eyes. Oh, for fuck’s sake, Swithin…

“I can only imagine June wanted this apartment she purchased for her own use, I have every intention

to respect that, I won’t use it for myself. Do you think it would be possible to sell it? I have no plans to

use it, and I am unfamiliar with the current rental conditions in London, but it might be tough for me to

manage from afar…”

“I understand, naturally. To be honest, my advice would be to rent the flat for a little while, the market is

set to hit a new height in just a few months. However, before we speak about that, Mr. Williams, I’m

afraid we will have to sort out the succession first. Due to the important sums involved in Miss Starr’s

inheritance, we do have to make sure to go by the rules on everything. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not! I am unfamiliar with legal matters in the UK, so I would be happy to trust you with it. I

don’t think I have ever heard of your firm before, Mr. Heartgraves, but from the bit my legal advisor

found online, you’re quite reputable.”

“Thank you for your praise. I take all of my clients very seriously, so just like you, I will make sure Miss

Starr’s belongings are handed to you without a hint of issue.”

I suddenly realize, Swithin’s been calling me “Miss Starr” from the beginning, and Charles hasn’t even

tried to correct him about it. While I was never grateful for my last name, it does make me a bit happy

to not be called “Madam Williams” or something. I’ll take the little victories I can, I guess.

Bart steps up to me, visibly listening too. Just when I glance at him, I see him open his lips, and I get

worried for a second, until a very faint whisper comes out of his mouth.

“Ask him more about the circumstances.”

“I regret having to ask you this, Mr. Williams,” says Swithin on the other side of the door. “But may I ask

how… the tragedy occurred? The newspapers were a bit cryptic about the circumstances, and the firm

would like to send something appropriate to Miss Starr’s family.”

I remember, our hearing is much better than humans. I’ve been hearing Charles and Swithin chat as if

they were right in front of me, but there’s a large door between us. Only Swithin possibly heard Bart’s

whisper, no way one of the humans caught this…

“She… June was extremely depressed. I happened to be away that night, I didn’t watch her… She

committed the unthinkable, I was the one that…”

My god, he couldn’t act even to save his life. I can’t help but roll my eyes, although I’m internally

screaming at that bastard’s pathetic attempt at a pitiful act.

“That’s terrible,” says Swithin. “Was her caretaker not around?”

“Caretaker?” Charles repeats, confused.

“She was diagnosed as heavily depressed, wasn’t she? I knew she wasn’t sent to any facility, but I

assumed there was still some sort of trained staff to take care of Miss Starr, surely?”

Well played, Swithin. Let’s push his buttons and see if that asshole makes a mistake.

“No, no,” he sighs theatrically. “June was quite bent on not allowing any strangers around, and it’s quite

sad thinking back, but she really didn’t have many friends to count on.”

“It sounds like you were the only one who could have truly taken care of her and prevented this

tragedy, Mr. Williams.”

I smile, showing off my fangs. Yes, Swithin, corner the bastard. I want to be sure he feels some guilt for

what he did.

“It’s… It’s still very hard for me to think about this.”

I hear the woman comfort him. Seriously? Where the hell is she coming from, anyway?

Suddenly, we hear a phone ringing. For a second, I worry Bart or I committed a mistake, but no, it’s

coming from the other side of the room, and Swithin is the one to take it.

“Sorry Sir, I have to take this. …Yes?” He says, loudly. “…Again? Hera, darling, I told you I would take

care of it. I promise I’m on it.”

Bart and I exchange a smile.

“Yes, yes I know. I’m finalizing the papers, I can drag them to court within the next month. It’s not going

to be a problem, darling, I know you’re attached to your work but I promise we’ll find a better agency,

this one is going bust. …Can I call you back, darling? Yes. Yes, see you later. Bye.”

He hangs up, and I wonder if another of our siblings fake-called him for this. He clears his throat.

“My apologies, Mr. Williams. My niece has been very nervous about her whole modeling agency issue,

her career is very important to her.”

“Oh, I can’t blame you for looking out for your family! Out of curiosity, may I ask the name of the

agency?”

“London Light Entertainment. They will be off the records soon though, I can guarantee you that. With

what I’m preparing against them, they will have to close down business with scraps left!”

“I see…”