Shattered Before His Eyes

Daphne wasn't even on the Vance Group payroll, yet she moved through the building with total freedom. Meanwhile, despite being Dominic's wife for three whole years, Cleo couldn't even get past the lobby to use the elevator.

There was a time when that contrast would have torn Cleo apart. Now, she just felt hollow inside. After standing through a few heavy, stifling seconds, she took out her phone and dialed Silas.

Surprise registered in Silas's voice. "You don't have an access pass?"

"No," Cleo replied in a flat tone.

Silas massaged his temples on the other end and didn't pry any further. "I'll tell Arthur to head downstairs. You can just sign the paperwork down in the lobby since the terms are already settled."

"All right. Thank you, Mr. Cross," Cleo said. Ending the call, she walked over to the couch, sat down with her back straight, and waited in silence.

Right at that moment, Sylvia came barreling through the revolving door. Her eyes darted across the lobby until they locked onto Cleo, and she stormed straight toward her.

"You're the mistress Silas is keeping, right?" she shrieked. "You had the nerve to show your face at my house? I'm going to teach you a lesson today!"

Cleo barely lifted her gaze before Sylvia flung an open bottle of water right in her face. With zero time to get out of the way, the cold liquid drenched her head to toe in a split second.

Having tailed Silas's car ever since morning, Sylvia was dead set on the idea that Cleo was his lover. Lunging closer, she yanked violently at the front of Cleo's blouse, tearing several buttons clean off.

"Filthy bitch!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. "Take a look, everyone! This shameless homewrecker actually came to provoke the legal wife!"

The Vance Group lobby was bustling with people, and Sylvia's loud outburst drew a crowd of stares right away.

Clutching her ripped collar together with one hand, Cleo shoved Sylvia back with the other. "I work as Mr. Cross's assistant. I am not his mistress. Next time, get your facts straight before you start throwing around wild accusations."

Blinded by rage, Sylvia refused to hear a word of it and lunged forward to yank Cleo's hair.

Cleo took a quick step back. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the elevator doors opening as Dominic walked out alongside Daphne, trailed by a group of Vance Group executives.

Dominic looked on without a flicker of emotion on his face, while Daphne raised a hand to cover her mouth in surprise. "Do you think there might be some sort of misunderstanding going on?" she murmured softly.

Still hanging onto Cleo's clothes, Sylvia broke into loud, theatrical sobs. "You home-wrecking slut! Just look at that scheming face of yours—I bet you've already spread your legs for Silas right in his office! After all the years I gave him, this is how I get repaid?"

Stumbling backward from the shoving, Cleo knitted her brows. "I already told you, nothing happened between us."

Out of nowhere, Sylvia bent at the waist in a deep bow. "Please let Silas go. I'm on my knees begging you."

Watching a legal wife bow and plead with an alleged mistress was so sensational that bystanders all around the lobby began pulling out their phones to film the spectacle.

Cleo had nothing left to say to someone so completely unhinged. Knowing that lingering here would only make the scene uglier, she turned to walk out.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Dominic turning to leave as well. Daphne stayed right by his side, chatting and laughing warmly with him. Standing together, the two of them looked like a match made in heaven.

Cleo froze right where she stood. Spotting the opening, Sylvia grabbed a vase off a nearby table and smashed it straight toward her head. "Drop dead, you bitch!"

Already weak from poor health, Cleo collapsed and lost consciousness almost immediately. Through the fading haze, she vaguely thought she saw Dominic spinning around and running toward her. Yet she had no strength left to see clearly as warm blood trickled down her forehead, clouding her sight before everything went dark.

*****

By the time Cleo opened her eyes again, she was lying in a hospital bed.

Silas was seated on a chair beside her, his expression dark and heavy. "I had no idea Sylvia would tail you here. I'm truly sorry for dragging you into this disaster."

Deep exhaustion clung to his features. "There isn't anyone else in my life, yet she refuses to believe a word I say. No matter how many times I explain, she blows it up into a massive fight. I finally reached my limit and filed for divorce."

"That only made her even more paranoid that I was having an affair," he continued wearily. "For the past two years, she's been showing up at my offices to cause scenes. After I left Vance Group, I took a position at another big corporation, only to lose three different jobs back-to-back because of her stunts. That's the reason I ended up at this smaller firm."

'So that's what happened,' Cleo thought to herself. She had wondered before why a high-level executive from Vance Group would settle for a mid-sized company. Now the pieces finally fit together.

A sudden memory tugged at her mind, prompting her to ask, "Mr. Cross, were you the one who brought me to the hospital?"

Confusion flickered briefly across Silas's face. "The police called me to let me know. Someone over at Vance Group must have reported the assault."

Cleo gave a slight nod. Right before passing out, she had sworn she saw Dominic rushing over. 'I really am pathetic,' she mocked herself inwardly. 'I've already given up on loving him, yet at death's door, my mind still conjured him up.'

"I've already settled all your hospital bills, and I wired an extra seventeen thousand into your account as compensation for what you went through," Silas said. "Can we settle this matter privately without pressing charges?"

Cleo nodded again. Holding onto pointless grudges had never been her way.

Studying Silas quietly, she noticed a hollowness in him. Back in his prime at thirty-six, he had been a rising star in the upper echelons of Vance Group. Only three years had passed since then, yet the man sitting before her looked worn down—not so much in appearance, but in spirit.

His estranged wife seemed hell-bent on ruining everything he built, latching onto him like a parasite and draining the life out of him bit by bit.

"Mr. Cross, where is Mrs. Cross right now?"

"They're holding her down at the station. The officers are just waiting on your statement to see how you want to proceed."

Cleo nodded and glanced down at her phone screen, where the bank notification for the transfer was already sitting. Seventeen thousand dollars was no small sum, especially when she needed every single dollar she could get her hands on.

"All right, I'll let the police know we're settling this privately," Cleo agreed. "Just please make sure Mrs. Cross understands there is nothing between us beyond work."

Silas pinched his brow, looking as though a fresh migraine was coming on. "If she were capable of listening to reason, today wouldn't have happened at all. Just do your best to stay clear of her from now on."

Cleo gave a quiet nod. Though thick white gauze was wrapped around her head, the wound itself wasn't life-threatening. Walking away with seventeen thousand dollars in compensation was honestly the most practical outcome she could ask for.

As early evening settled in, she finished her discharge paperwork and walked out of the building. Pulling out her phone on the sidewalk, she scrolled through rental listings nearby. With her entire savings sitting at a meager twenty thousand dollars, she had to watch every penny.

Standing just outside the hospital entrance, Cleo looked up at the dimming sky and thought, 'It's too late to go apartment hunting tonight. I'll just find a cheap hotel to sleep in.'

Right as she raised her hand to flag down a passing taxi, a car glided up to the curb. The window rolled smoothly down, revealing a familiar face inside. "Cleo?"

"Conrad?" Cleo blinked, caught off guard.

Stepping out of the vehicle, Conrad caught sight of the gauze around her head and frowned at once. He lifted a hand to touch the bandage, only for Cleo to flinch backward on pure instinct.

Dropping his hand smoothly to his side, he acted as though he hadn't noticed her recoil. "What happened to your head? Didn't Dominic come here with you?" he asked gently.

Conrad had always carried himself like a gentleman and treated her with nothing but kindness, so Cleo didn't feel the need to hide the truth from him. "Dominic and I are getting a divorce," she told him plainly.

A subtle glint shifted deep in Conrad's eyes as he pulled open the passenger door. "Get in first. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

Sliding into the back seat, Cleo turned her gaze toward the street outside. "I'm planning to rent a small place somewhere close to my office."

"Over by Concord Avenue? I happen to own a property right in that area, and it's sitting completely empty. You can move right in if you want."

"Thank you, really, but I couldn't impose like that."

"There's no need to be so formal with me. I have plenty of properties sitting around unused anyway."

Turning him down a second time would only make things awkward between them. "All right," Cleo whispered, hot tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

Leaning slightly across the space, Conrad reached out and rested a gentle hand against her bandaged head.

Some distance down the street, another car sat parked in the shadows beneath a tree, and the man behind the wheel watched the entire exchange without moving a muscle.