Page 84 of The Don's Pregnant Hacker

And I can never tell him why.

What should I do?

I should tell him the truth now and hope he lets it go. Hope he forgives me. I imagine his reaction.

What would happen if I came out clean?

A gun to my head?

A change of heart?

An apology for his beliefs?

A swift get the fuck out?

Right now, I can’t deal with this.

I take a deep breath and watch him closely.

I try to remember every inch of his face for that dreadful day when I would no longer be in the same room with him.

For when he finally bids me a traitor and forever wishes me goodbye. If good at all.

His phone rings.

He picks it up.

His mouth forms words.

Each motion is forever etched in my mind like a movie I’d never forget.

Memories of happier times.

My heart shatters at the thought that I have the privilege of knowing I need to jot all this down to memory, but he doesn’t even know he should go yet.

By not telling him, I feel I’m taking something away from him.

Not only am I a liar and a traitor, but as of this moment, I became a thief.

He puts it down. He looks at me.

“Emily,” he says. “I’ve been here long enough to know how we change people. I just don’t want to change you.”

“I understand,” I say, my voice low and steady, resolute almost, like I’m already disassociating from my growing love for him.

“But it doesn’t mean I agree with it. I won’t let my lack of family background keep me from doing what I’m good at.”

Might as well drown myself in work now while I can. So that when the time comes, look, I helped you build too.

Maybe if I do a damn good job, he’d consider believing that not all family enemies were born enemies - some were forced to be until they had an out.

Maybe he’d give me an escape.

I yearn for him to give me an out because I have nobody to call mine except him.

Before tears threaten to fill my eyes, I cough to clear the constricting bulge in my throat.

“Felix, I’m here now. You might as well let me help. Can we go speak with the team?”