Chapter II. The Arrival of a Spy

As I rode up in the elevator, I couldn't stop laughing. I would love for my relationship with Walter to be like Christine and Bruno's or my parents', but I hadn't achieved that yet. I would have to keep trying.

"Good morning, Coral. I think Mr. Barone is waiting for me," I said in my competent employee voice.

"He's been waiting for two hours, but Christine told me you were sick. What are you doing here now?" the assistant said impartially.

Coral wasn't the life of the party. In fact, she was downright unfriendly. But she was one of the best assistants in the company, second only to Christine.

"I've recovered, so I'll stay late to make up for the hours I missed," I said seriously, hoping she would let me into the office.

Coral looked at me with the gaze of a fifty-year-old woman who had seen it all. Her gaze told me that I should, of course, stay and fulfill my obligations. She would be the dream of any Japanese businessman.

"He's with someone right now. I'll let him know and see if he'll let you in," she said, picking up the phone to talk to her boss.

"Mr. Barone, Caroline Miller is here." She just arrived at the company. Should I let her in, or should I tell her...?” "Okay, I'll let her in right now," I heard the assistant say to my boss. "Miss Barone, you may come in," she said as she hung up the phone.

I walked to my boss's office door, knocked, and waited to hear that I could come in. Although I am one of the heirs to this company and many others under the Miller name, I know that this is my job. As such, I must respect my direct superior. That was one of the many lessons my parents taught us: to value our employees.

"Come in," I heard my boss say in his marked Italian accent.

"What's up, Bruno? I know you adore me, but what are you doing here?" Any jokes I had planned upon entering disappeared when I saw the person sitting in the armchair next to Bruno and another man in a suit standing next to him.

"How wonderful to see you, Wendy! I've missed you, too. I'm doing great, better than you'll be when I tell you that I've moved the headquarters to London. Aren't you happy?" said the first man I ever loved, and will always love, despite him being a bloody nightmare because we've been together all our lives.

"Shit!" I said, walking over to him and stomping on his foot like when we were kids.

I had lived two years away from the controlling and overprotective Miller men. Once again, one of them had caught up with me: the most psychopathic and obsessive of them all—my brother, Roy William Miller, Arturo. My father had sent a spy to find out about my life. No matter how much I told myself that Arturo wasn't like that, no one was going to believe it—not even him. My peaceful days were over. My brother's groans of pain did nothing to calm the anxiety I felt. They told me I was crazy and made the two people who were there try not to laugh at the CEO of the Miller Group.

Logically, calling my mother was inevitable. As I complained bitterly, I was mainly afraid of what Roy might do to expose me. This would end my relationship with my husband. In this relationship, I knew I was in the wrong for not being honest with my husband and telling him who I was.

However, I had a trump card up my sleeve: Roy's loyalty to his loved ones. My brother has had a strong protective instinct since birth. Ever since we were children, he took the punishment I deserved to protect me from our parents.

This showed me that he would never intentionally hurt me and that I could trust him. On the other hand, however, it gave him the ability to take on roles that weren't his, such as what he was doing at that moment.

I'll never forget the times when my sister Amelia, Connelly (my godparents' daughter, whom I also consider my little sister), and I were watched over by my brother, Connelly's brother, and his two best friends, Lean and Gavin, when we went out with friends to party.

No man who approached us went unwarned about the consequences of asking for our phone numbers or Instagram handles. That's how controlled we were. In the end, many of our friends stopped going out with us because we scared off their dates.

The worst part is that my uncle Jason and my father applauded this sexist and backward attitude behind my mother and my aunt Kimberly's backs. When discovered, they very conveniently reprimanded their sons slightly for not letting their sisters breathe.

It was all very logical, as you can see. That's why we went directly to the most influential members of both families—our mothers—so they could punish the "savages" who wanted to control us.

"This time will be no different," I told myself as I began speaking to my mother as an offended, mistreated daughter.

I knew that, faced with her eldest daughter's complaint, she would undoubtedly suspect my father, her husband. The controlling Miller men would have no choice but to submit or die.

At least, that's what I hoped because if everything was discovered because of Roy, he would surely die at my hands in terrible suffering. That much was clear to me.