The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife novel Chapter 75

75 The Secretary’s Secret War

## Liam’s POV 1

The drive to Damian’s house felt endless. Every traffic light turned red, every slow driver seemed to position themselves directly in front of me. All I could think about was Hazel’s flushed face, her partially unbuttoned blouse, and the way she’d arched into my touch.

I slammed my palm against the steering wheel.

“Damn it.”

My phone buzzed with another message from Damian: *Where are you?*

I didn’t bother responding. Ten minutes later, I pulled into his driveway and killed the engine. The large colonial house was lit up like a Christmas tree. Security personnel stood at strategic points around the property-a reminder that this wasn’t a social call.

Damian opened the door before I could knock.

“You look like hell,” he remarked.

“Thanks.” I brushed past him into the foyer. “This better be good. I was-

“In the middle of making up with Hazel. I figured.”

”

I shot him a glare that would have made most employees quit on the spot. He just laughed.

“Albert’s in the study with the witness.”

“Who is it?” I asked, following him down the hallway.

“Margaret.”

I stopped short. “The coffee lady?”

“Turns out she sees and hears a lot more than anyone realized.”

We entered Damian’s wood-paneled study. Albert Allen, our head investigator, stood by the fireplace. In an armchair sat Margaret, the older woman who had served coffee on the executive floor for over a decade.

She looked terrified.

“Mr. Sterling,” she greeted, half-rising.

“Please, sit.” I took the chair opposite her. “Margaret, I appreciate you coming forward.”

She twisted her hands in her lap. “I should have said something sooner.”

Albert cleared his throat. “Mrs. Coleman has provided some rather illuminating

information about Miss Jenkins’ activities.”

“Bianca,” I clarified, leaning forward. “What did you see?”

Margaret glanced at Albert, who nodded encouragingly.

“It started the day you hired Miss Vance,” she began. “Bianca was… well, she was furious. She’d been certain the position would go to her.”

“I remember,” I said. “She wasn’t qualified.”

“That didn’t matter to her.” Margaret’s voice grew stronger. “She felt entitled to it. When Miss Vance got the job instead, something changed in Bianca. She became

obsessed.”

Damian handed me a glass of scotch. I took it, grateful for the burn.

“Obsessed how?”

“At first, it was just nasty remarks when Miss Vance wasn’t around. Calling her names, mocking her clothes or her accent.” Margaret frowned. “But then she started this… campaign.”

“Campaign?” Albert prompted.

“To ruin her. She would deliberately give Miss Vance wrong information about meetings. She once deleted important files from Miss Vance’s computer while she was at lunch.”

Each revelation felt like another weight on my shoulders. While I’d been falling for Hazel, she’d been fighting a secret war I knew nothing about.

“Did Hazel know?” I asked.

Margaret shook her head. “Miss Vance thought they were friends. Bianca played that

“Jesus,” Damian muttered.

“There’s more,” Albert said. “Tell him about Isabella Clairemont.”

At the name, my jaw clenched. Margaret’s eyes darted nervously between us.

“Bianca was feeding her information,” she said quietly. “Your schedule, your whereabouts. It wasn’t coincidence that Miss Clairemont kept appearing.”

The glass nearly slipped from my fingers. “What?”

dinner

“I overheard them once, in the ladies’ room. Bianca was giving her your reservation details, telling her exactly when to show up to create a scene.” Margaret’s expression hardened. “She laughed about how upset Miss Vance would be.”

White-hot rage surged through me. I set the glass down before I shattered it.

“Every time,” I said through gritted teeth. “Every damned time Isabella appeared-”

“Was orchestrated,” Albert confirmed. “According to Margaret, Bianca and Isabella had some sort of arrangement. Isabella would create problems between you and Miss Vance, and in return…”

“In return, once I was out of the picture, Isabella would help Bianca secure a position directly under you,” Margaret finished.

The pieces clicked into hideous place. The uncomfortable dinner where Isabella had shown up uninvited. The charity gala where she’d practically thrown herself at me in front of Hazel. The constant, inexplicable appearances that had driven a wedge

between us.

All engineered by someone I’d trusted with company secrets.

“That’s why Hazel kept pulling away,” I realized aloud. “She thought I was encouraging

Isabella’s attention.”

“Bianca counted on that,” Margaret said. “She’d tell Miss Vance things too-little lies about you and Miss Clairemont meeting privately, or how you’d commented on Miss Clairemont’s appearance.”

I stood abruptly, needing to move. “I never said a damn word about Isabella except to

75 The Secretary’s Secret War

complain about her.”

10

“Bianca didn’t care about the truth,” Margaret continued. “She wanted Miss Vance gone. When the personal attacks didn’t work fast enough, she escalated to sabotaging

her work.”

“The Milan contracts,” I guessed.

Margaret nodded. “She switched the files while Miss Vance was getting coffee. I saw

her do it.”

I paced the length of the study, fury making it hard to think clearly. Hazel had suffered months of this psychological warfare without my knowledge. While I’d been frustrated by her insecurities about Isabella, she’d been fighting an enemy disguised as a friend.

“This goes beyond corporate espionage,” Albert noted. “This is personal vindictiveness on a disturbing scale.”

“Is there more?” I asked, dreading the answer.

Margaret’s expression confirmed my fears. “Much more, Mr. Sterling. The corporate sabotage we’ve uncovered is just the beginning.”

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