The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife novel Chapter 112

112 Daily Reminders and Unwelcome Encounters

“I’ve been hoping to run into you,” she purred, her eyes glittering with malice.

A high–pitched, whiny voice cut through our conversation from behind me. “Well, if it isn’t Liam’s little secretary.”

My heart skipped. “What?”

I nodded gratefully, and he escorted me through the main floor. Once we reached my new office door, I felt my shoulders relax slightly.

Stella squeezed my hand before leaving. “Lunch today? The café across the street at

one?”

“I’ll be nearby if you need anything,” Daniel assured me before heading back to his post.

I quickly wiped my eyes and straightened. “Yes, Mr. Knight.”

Wednesday brought another slice, alongside a stack of contracts Damian needed reviewed by noon.

“Yes, sir. And Mr. Sterling has specifically revoked your building privileges. If you don’t leave willingly, I’ll have to escort you out.”

I buried my face in my hands. “That doesn’t change anything. Isabella will still make our lives hell.”

Tuesday morning, I found a slice of chocolate cake on my desk. Not just any chocolate cake–my favorite from the bakery three blocks away. The one Liam and I had

discovered together. No card this time, just the cake.

Working for Damian proved to be exactly what I needed. He kept me busy with a mountain of tasks requiring full concentration, leaving no time to dwell on my broken heart. By the end of the day, I was exhausted but thankful for the distraction.

I pushed open my office door and stopped abruptly. On my desk sat a beautiful arrangement of yellow and pink tulips. My favorite flowers. My hand trembled as I reached for the small card nestled among the blooms:

*I respect your decision, but I won’t stop fighting for us. Never doubt that I love you. –

L*

112 Daily Reminders and Unwelcome Encounters

My stomach dropped. “Mr. Clairemont, I have nothing to say to you.

I pushed my salad around my plate. “I’m surviving. Damian keeps me so busy I barely have time to breathe, let alone think.”

Julian’s face reddened. “Do you know who I am?”

“Not until you understand your place,” he hissed. “A secretary shouldn’t aim above her station.”

“Mr. Clairemont was just leaving,” I stated.

Isabella Clairemont stood there, perfectly dressed in designer clothes, her hand resting dramatically on her still–flat stomach. Her lips curved in a triumphant smile as she stared down at me.

I sighed. “They’re breaking my heart all over again each day.”

Daniel nodded. “Sir, I’ll have to ask you to exit the building. Harassment of Sterling Group employees is grounds for immediate removal.”

Julian scoffed. “This doesn’t concern you.”

My eyes were still puffy from crying all weekend. No amount of concealer could hide that completely. I smoothed down my navy pencil skirt and adjusted my cream blouse before grabbing my purse. Time to face reality.

Hazel’s POV

A

Julian glared at me. “This isn’t over.” He turned and stormed toward the exit.

“Ms. Vance!” a loud, authoritative voice called out. Julian Clairemont stood near the reception desk, his expensive suit and arrogant stance marking him as someone who believed himself untouchable.

I managed to avoid seeing Liam throughout the week. If he came to the executive floor, Damian would send me on errands elsewhere. I knew this delicate dance couldn’t last forever, but I appreciated the reprieve.

He blocked my path, forcing/me to stop. “My daughter is carrying Liam’s child, and you continue to cause problems. I won’t allow a nobody like you to interfere with their family.”

112 Daily Reminders and Unwelcome Encounters

The tears I’d been holding back all morning spilled over. I sank into my chair, the card clutched in my hand.

“You can do this,” I whispered to my reflection in the bathroom mirror, applying a final touch of lipstick.

I nodded, grateful for the friends who were helping me survive.

“I know that better than-‘

“There’s also love,” Stella interrupted. “Real, genuine love doesn’t come along every day, Hazel.”

Several employees slowed their pace, watching the confrontation unfold.

At lunch on Thursday, Stella and I claimed a quiet corner table at the café across from Sterling Tower.

“Maybe that means there’s still something worth salvaging,” she suggested gently. “He’s not making this easy, is he?”

She shook her head. “No, but I’m not surprised.” She closed the door and sat across from me. “You should know that Liam refused to marry Isabella. It’s causing quite a

stir.”

“Thank you,” I managed, still shaken.

Thursday, the cake appeared with a single yellow tulip.

I looked up to find Stella standing in the doorway, a sympathetic expression on her face.

“And the daily cake deliveries?”

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