Page 35 of Daddy's Accidental Babies

“So you’ve seen the version we sent up to Vanessa for review?” I turned it around, holding it out so she could see it, but I didn’t let her take it.

Marla tilted her head, and for a second, I thought she might feign confusion, but instead, she gave a single, deliberate nod and a sardonic shrug of her shoulder. “That’s the version we all signed off on.”

I kept my expression neutral, though my fingers curled around the edge of the folder. “Except the version that ended up in Vanessa’s inbox wasn’t the one I submitted.” I was a dog with a bone, locked on every inflection on her face, the slightest twitch, the way her eyes blinked languidly.

But she smiled wryly and said, “Sounds like someone made a mistake.” And when her eyes narrowed, I found myself getting angry and wanting to smack her.

“They did,” I said evenly, controlling my urges, “but I don’t think it was an accident.”

A quiet stretched between us, long enough to make the hum of the ceiling sound about as loud as a helicopter overhead.I waited, but she didn’t respond immediately other than to continue smirking and ignore my statement.

Marla picked up her tablet and tucked it under her arm. “You should be careful throwing around accusations without proof.” One eyebrow rose, which made my blood boil.

“And you should be careful modifying internal documents that go to the executive team. I’ll have you know I sent this to legal. If they find out it was you, you’ll be terminated…” I had no intention of letting this go. Someone was trying to make me look bad for some reason, and the only thing I could think was that it was personal somehow.

She smirked as she turned away. “Have a nice afternoon,Boss,” she said, accentuating my title with spite in her tone.

I watched her leave and waited until the door clicked shut, and then finally sat down. My back ached. My hands were trembling. But I had kept my voice calm, only because I knew escalating this to an argument would only give her more satisfaction and make me look less in control.

As I was wrapping up notes at my desk, my phone buzzed. I saw Isla’s name on the screen and picked up quickly, hoping she had word for me about the PDF hack and what I could expect.

“It’s official,” she announced. “HR is initiating a preliminary investigation. They’re pulling Marla’s access to the messaging archives for the next two weeks.”

I let out a long breath and closed my eyes for a second. “And the memo?”

“Your version is the one being logged. IT confirmed the metadata. HR will include it in the internal report.”

It wasn’t a full win in the way I’d hoped, but it was the first shift in my favor. I had something tangible to help me get some footing—an action backed by evidence. If legal was on my side, then I wouldn’t be terminated at least, which was what I really needed to know.

I thanked her and ended the call, then rose from my chair and smoothed my blouse. There was one more update that needed to be delivered in person, and I wasn’t looking forward to delivering it.

Dominic’s new office, set up by the team so he didn’t have to commute across town so often, was on the twelfth floor, tucked behind a glass wall with a view that made most of our other spaces feel like broom closets. His assistant wasn’t at her desk, so I knocked once and let myself in.

He was reviewing something on his tablet and didn’t look up right away. “Give me one second.”

I waited near the doorway until he set the device down and looked at me. His tie was undone, the sleeves of his dress shirt pushed to his elbows. He looked happy to see me, but I knew once I told him what I had to say, he wouldn’t be so pleased.

“Problem?” he asked when I didn’t immediately start talking.

“An update.” I stepped forward and laid the folder on his desk. “Marla showed up late to the strategy session. She didn’t offer a reason or acknowledge her lateness…I found out earlier this week that a memo I submitted—one tied to the Milan campaign—was tampered with. The version that landed in Vanessa’s inbox wasn’t the same file I drafted. I went to legal about it…”

Dominic sat up slightly, a crease forming between his brows as if he was suddenly very interested in what was going on. But he didn’t interrupt my story, so I kept going.

“When we spoke after the meeting,” I continued, “I asked her directly if she had accessed the draft documents. She didn’t deny it. She just played coy, made it sound like I was jumping to conclusions. But I saw the way she looked at me. She knew exactly what she was doing.”

“And legal?”

“Isla called me a few minutes ago. HR is launching a review, and they’re pulling Marla’s access to the messaging archive for the next two weeks. The metadata confirmed my version was the original. IT verified it.”

“Christ,” he hissed, and both of his hands rose. His fingers rubbed his temples. I wasn’t sure why he was having a strong reaction to this, but given that it concerned him, I felt like it was my job to tell him, so I continued.

“I think it’s personal, Dominic.” I winced as I said his name instead of “Mr. Knight” while speaking about work topics, but his expression softened as I did. “I think she’s jealous that I got this job and maybe she wanted it.” Worrying my lip between my teeth, I waited for him to respond.

He rested his arms on the desk and looked at me carefully. “I’m not so sure that’s it…” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, and something about his posture seemed inviting, like he wanted me to climb on his lap for comfort. “You know, not everything is as it seems. Things hidden…well, they come out.”

I kept my expression still, but my pulse kicked up. I didn’t know if he was talking about Marla and her vendetta or if he’d seen the image I’d seen on that blog post.

“People think they can hide things forever,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “But they can’t. Not really.”

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