Page 33 of Crushing On Bestie's Billionaire Brother

She leans forward, concern etched on her face. "Chloe, wha- what do you mean? This- this is rather unexpected. What happened? I understand you might be disappointed that Stephen decided to cancel our investigation in the whistleblower story, but we’re still going ahead with the article you wrote about the sweatshop workers in Indonesia. Think about it, kid! Your first article in Eagle Eye.”

For a moment, I feel my resolve softening. Besides Martha, Rosie’s the only other person who has been on my side since the beginning. It’s hard to turn her down, but I know what I must do.

I offer a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you, Rosie. You have been such a delight and inspiration to work with. Please know that this has nothing to do with you. I’ll always cherish your mentorship. But I- I can’t work here anymore. I just can’t.”

Rosie's eyes soften, her voice tinged with a touch of desperation. "Chloe, I understand that you may be going through a tough time right now, but I urge you to reconsider. Your talent and commitment are rare. We need someone like you on our team."

I take a moment to gather my thoughts, my gaze meeting Rosie's earnest eyes. "I appreciate your faith in me, Rosie. But continuing to work for Eagle Eye would mean compromising my morals as a journalist, and I will never stand for that."

Rosie's expression flickers between concern and frustration. "Chloe, this feels rash. Have you considered the consequences of leaving? The impact it might have on your career?"

With a gentle resolve, I respond, my voice firm but tinged with a touch of sadness. "I have weighed the pros and cons, Rosie. This is not a decision I’ve made lightly. Let’s just say that by leaving, I am opening doors to new opportunities where I can make a real difference.”

Rosie sighs and takes off her glasses, pinching her nose in resignation. “All right, kiddo. I get it,” she says with a brittle smile. “It’s been a pleasure mentoring you.”

I nod and walk out of her office, for what is probably the last time. The thought makes me tear up again, but I must get home before I have a complete meltdown.

For now, I sit at my desk, surrounded by the remnants of a life I am about to leave behind. After tidying up my desk for the next starry-eyed reporter to take my place, I start making arrangements, reaching out to real estate agents, browsing through job listings, and researching new cities that hold the promise of a fresh start.

As I sort through the remnants of my time at the firm, I come across photos of the team, smiling faces frozen in moments of camaraderie and shared victories. A pang of longing reverberates through me, reminding me of the connections I'll be leaving behind. But I know deep down that this decision is necessary.

And then my eyes land on Stephen’s smiling face as he stands next to me, with the members of the South Asian Eagle Eye team surrounding us. This photo is from our time in Indonesia, from a trip that had forever changed the dynamic between Stephen and me. I recall that stormy night when we had forged a unique intimacy, a safe space where I could open up and give a voice to my most secret desires . . .

And then my mind strays on to all our romps across the city, our secret dates, all that earnest, ravenous, urgentfucking. . . Again, a dull pain strikes me in the chest and I have to forcefully banish those images from my mind.

Soon, I step into my empty apartment, the weight of my decision settling heavily upon me. The familiar surroundings that once brought comfort now seem like a mere backdrop to my inner turmoil. I close the door behind me, feeling the weight of the world pressing upon my shoulders.

In the silence, I allow myself a moment of vulnerability, sinking onto the couch with a heavy sigh. The sadness I've held at bay begins to seep out of my eyes. I find solace in the darkness, allowing my tears to flow freely, unburdening my heart of the conflicting emotions that have plagued me for days. The tears fall in quiet streams, and I let them. This too is a form of release.

Minutes, or perhaps hours, pass in this melancholic haze until finally, a glimmer of resolve pierces through the shadows. I wipe away the remnants of my tears, steeling myself for what lies ahead. It is time to gather the strength within me and take the next steps. I can’t afford to wallow any longer.

After some time, I calm down and rise from the couch, my steps purposeful as I navigate through the apartment. I open the closet doors, the sight of clothes and belongings triggering a mix of nostalgia and anticipation. Each item holds a memory, a piece of my journey at Eagle Eye, and I pack them carefully into boxes, one by one.

If only I could pack away my feelings for Stephen with such ease . . .

Chapter twenty

Stephen

Ipaceanxiouslyinmy office, my mind consumed with thoughts of Chloe and the events that have unfolded rapidly over the last few days. Every passing second feels like an eternity, until finally, a knock on the door interrupts my restless thoughts. Martha enters, her expression a mix of concern and determination.

"Stephen," she says, her voice filled with urgency. "I've got something important to show you."

My heart leaps with anticipation as Martha places a folder on my desk. I reach for it, my hands trembling slightly, and open it to reveal a collection of documents that detail Jonathan's involvement with the whistleblower case. Each email is meticulously labelled and filed away—a sign of Chloe’s precise ways. The weight of the evidence is undeniable, and a surge of emotions courses through me.

"Chloe . . . she found all this?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Martha nods solemnly. "Yes, Stephen. She discovered these emails between Jonathan and the agent from the whistleblower's company. That’s where she had gone that day. She had tried to inform you straight away but her phone had gone out of network and then she just couldn’t get you to listen . . .” Here, Martha pauses with a guarded expression, realizing that she was almost chastising me. “Anyways, this is clear evidence of Jonathan’s shady dealings and attempts to compromise the investigation."

A mix of anger and sadness wells up within me as I scan through the incriminating evidence. The truth is laid bare before my eyes, and the realization that Jonathan had been manipulating us all along is a bitter pill to swallow.

"I can't believe he would stoop this low," I mutter, my voice heavy with disappointment.

Martha's gaze softens, her voice filled with empathy. "I know it's hard to accept, but we have to act on this information, Stephen. Chloe would have wanted me to give this to you, and we need to ensure that justice is served."

The weight of responsibility settles upon my shoulders, and I nod. "You're right, Martha. We can't let this go unnoticed. We have to confront Jonathan and expose his deceit."

As we leave my office and make our way toward Jonathan's domain, I can feel the tension building within me. The walls seem to close in, and the air grows heavy with the weight of impending confrontation. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat fueling my resolve.

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