Chapter 5 - THE JOB THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
Emily arrived at Moretti Holdings wearing her best navy dress.
It was six years old.
The hem had been repaired twice.
But it was clean, pressed, and professional.
She carried a folder containing her résumé.
The receptionist smiled.
“Miss Carter? Ms. Bennett is expecting you.”
Emily followed her down a hallway lined with glass offices.
She was nervous.
Not because of Vincent.
Because she wanted the job.
The interview lasted forty minutes.
Ms. Bennett asked about filing systems, scheduling, confidentiality, and records management.
Emily answered honestly.
She had worked as a hotel receptionist before becoming a housekeeper.
She knew how to organize information.
She knew how to manage difficult people.
She knew how to stay calm under pressure.
At the end, Ms. Bennett smiled.
“You're more qualified than your résumé suggests.”
Emily blinked.
“Thank you.”
“We'd like to offer you a probationary position.”
Emily stared.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
When she left the building, she called Daniel.
“I got it.”
He screamed.
Actually screamed.
Emily laughed through tears.
That evening, Vincent invited her to dinner.
Not a romantic dinner.
A conversation.
They met at a small Italian restaurant owned by an elderly couple who greeted Vincent like family.
Emily sat across from him.
“I got the job.”
“I heard.”
She smiled.
“Thank you for the interview.”
He nodded.
“You earned the offer.”
For a while, they talked about ordinary things.
Daniel's studies.
Emily's favorite books.
The city.
Then Vincent asked:
“Did your mother ever mention my father?”
Emily shook her head.
“Not by name.”
He looked disappointed.
Then she remembered something.
“She used to say that sometimes the worst people in a room were the ones everyone called respectable.”
Vincent went still.
Emily continued.
“She said you should never judge danger by how expensive a man's suit is.”
He looked toward the window.
“That sounds like something she'd say after meeting Charles.”
Emily stared.
“Do you really think he was involved?”
Vincent hesitated.
“I think he knows more than he's admitted.”
Then he reached into his coat.
He placed a photograph on the table.
A young man stood beside a black car.
He had Vincent's eyes.
“My father,” Vincent said.
Emily studied the picture.
“He looks kind.”
Vincent smiled sadly.
“He was complicated.”
He looked at her.
“People called him a criminal.”
Emily waited.
“He did things I can't defend.”
Vincent's voice grew quieter.
“But he loved me.”
Emily looked at him.
“Those things can both be true.”
Vincent stared.
Then smiled faintly.
“Your mother said something similar.”
As they left the restaurant, Vincent's phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then went pale.
“What do you mean the storage unit was emptied?”
Emily stopped.
Vincent looked at her.
“Someone broke into the archive where my father's old records were kept.”
Her stomach tightened.
“What did they take?”
May you like
He swallowed.
“Everything connected to the fire.”
