The silence stretched between us, thick and unbearable.
My mind raced for an escape, a denial, anything that would get me out of this office. Away from those piercing dark eyes that saw too much.
I forced my expression into polite confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't think we have."
My voice came out steadier than I expected, but Xander didn't buy it.
His eyes narrowed slightly, studying my face with that same intensity I remembered from years ago. The way he'd looked at me across the bar, like he was trying to memorize every detail.
"You look familiar," he said slowly, each word deliberate. "I'm certain we've met."
I shook my head, maintaining the lie even as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. "I just have one of those faces… People say that to me all the time."
I tried to smile, but it felt brittle on my lips. Like it might crack and shatter at any moment.
Xander watched me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze. I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, sifting through memories, trying to place me.
Then he stepped back, gesturing toward the chair across from his desk. "Sit."
It wasn't a request and I obeyed, grateful for the chance to hide my trembling hands in my lap. The leather chair was expensive, soft—the kind of furniture that cost more than three months of my rent.
Everything in this office screamed wealth and power.
Everything about him screamed danger.
"Your resume is impressive," he began, settling into his own chair. "Schedule management, correspondence, coordinating meetings—you've listed experience in all of these areas. Tell me about your last position."
"Freelance administrative work, mostly. Remote clients, flexible hours." I kept my voice professional, detached. "I managed calendars, handled email correspondence, organized travel arrangements."
"Why freelance?"
Because I was pregnant and alone and couldn't hold down a regular job while raising twins by myself.
Because you vanished and left me with nothing but a fake name and two babies growing inside me.
"Personal circumstances," I said instead. "But those circumstances have changed. I'm ready to commit to a full-time position now."
Xander nodded, but his attention kept drifting back to my face. I could feel him trying to place me, searching through memories like someone flipping through an old photo album. The tension became suffocating.
"Your typing speed?"
"Ninety words per minute."
"Software proficiency?"
"Full Microsoft suite, Google Workspace, basic graphic design programs, several project management platforms."
My responses felt mechanical, rehearsed.
I just needed to get through this meeting. Just needed to survive the first day. Then I could figure out what to do, how to handle working for the man who…
"And what about your dream of becoming a writer?"
I froze. “I’m sorry?”
His voice was quieter now, stripped of its commanding edge. Something almost vulnerable flickered across his features. "That night at the bar five years ago. That’s what you’ve told me."
My composure cracked. My breath caught in my throat, and I saw the recognition dawn fully in his eyes—the confirmation he'd been searching for.
The polite confusion I'd been wearing like armor crumbled away, and there was no point in denying it anymore.
"And what about your name was Alex," I said, and the words came out harder than I intended. Years of buried hurt rising to the surface. "That you work in construction. Some things are changing pretty quickly I guess."
Xander tensed up. He didn't deny it.
"I believed you." I heard the bitter edge in my own voice and couldn't stop it. "But you decided I wasn't worthy of the truth."
"That’s not…"
"I'm not waiting for any explanations, there's no need."
His expression shifted—surprise, maybe even guilt—but I didn't give him time to respond.
Well, I certainly don't look like someone who doesn't care. But since I've finally been given the chance to say everything I've been thinking of, it would be a sin not to take advantage of it.
"But you know what? That’s actually insane how you thought everything through. The phone number you gave me didn't work. The construction company that doesn't exist. I searched for 'Alex' everywhere I could think of, and found nothing."
The old wound tore open, spilling everything I'd kept locked away. The humiliation of those weeks after our night together, when the pregnancy test showed two lines and I desperately tried to find him.
"I actually tried to find you…" I said quietly.
The admission slipped out before I could stop it, raw and honest in a way I hadn't intended. Something flickered in his eyes. Pain? Regret? I couldn't tell, and I didn't want to know.
"It doesn't matter now," I continued, straightening in my chair, pulling my professional mask back into place like armor. "That was a long time ago. A different life."
"Daphne, I had no idea that…"
"I'm here to do a job, Mr. Hale." I met his gaze steadily, daring him to push further. "Whatever happened before—it's in the past. I'd like to keep it there."
Xander held my stare for a long moment.
I could see the questions burning behind his eyes, the things he wanted to say pressing against his lips. His hands gripped the arms of his chair like he was physically restraining himself from speaking.
But finally, he nodded slowly. "Fine. We'll keep this professional then."
His tone was clipped, controlled, but something in his expression told me this conversation wasn't over. Just postponed.
"You're hired," he said. "Patricia will show you to your desk and go over the onboarding paperwork. You start immediately."
I blinked, caught off guard.
That was it? Despite the tension, despite the awkwardness, despite what had to be the shortest and strangest interview in corporate history… He was hiring me?
"Don't you want to... check my references? Conduct a second interview?"
"No." His eyes met mine, unreadable. "I've seen enough."
I didn't know what to make of that. Didn't know if it was a good thing or a warning. "Thank you," I managed. "I won't let you down."
"You better not."
I stood on shaky legs and walked to the door, feeling his gaze on my back with every step. My hand was on the handle when his voice stopped me.
"Daphne." He sat behind his desk, powerful and untouchable, a world away from the man I'd met in that bar. "I had my reasons. For the name. For all of it."
I waited for more, but nothing came.
"Goodnight, Mr. Hale," I said, and walked out. The door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath.
My mind was spinning, but one thought crystallized with perfect clarity: he gave me a fake name. A fake life. He never wanted me to find him. Whatever his reasons, he'd made it clear that night meant nothing to him beyond a few fleeting hours.
And if he didn't want to be found then, he certainly didn't deserve to know about Nina and Lisa now.
The secret stayed buried. I'd make sure of it.