Chapter 16 The Unknown Number
Abigail looked at her daughter's weary face and could only let out a deep sigh.
"I'm sorry, Emma. I've let you down."
She was aware that she should not constantly instill a fear of men in her daughter. After all, Emma would have to marry someday. She was just scared that Emma would get hurt again.
"Mom, it's fine. Once your surgery is successful, the doctor says you might be able to walk again! And when that happens, you need to treat me to pizza. I've been craving it."
"Alright." Abigail nodded, and then a thought struck her. "Your boyfriend, invite him over. I want to meet him."
Emma froze and guiltily turned away. She began peeling an apple. "He's swamped with work at his company."
"Just like your father was—"
"Mom!" Emma interrupted softly before continuing, "Not everyone is like him."
At least her gut told her that Michael was not someone like that.
To Abigail, it sounded like Emma was defending her boyfriend. She frowned, not saying anything. However, she did not accept the apple Emma offered.
Outside, the sky was growing darker.
With someone to look after her mother and having an early start at the company the next day, Emma left the hospital once her mother was asleep.
She took a deep breath as she stepped outside. Hailing a taxi, she headed to Michael's place.
Just as she got out of the taxi, her phone rang. It was an unknown number.
"Are you back home?" Michael's deep, magnetic voice was unmistakable.
"Yeah."
"I have something to do at the last minute. I'll be home later. Go on in." He paused, then added, "The door code is BM0825."
The sudden repetition of the sequence of numbers made her pause before she finally agreed.
As Emma stepped through the door of the house, she was deep in thought while removing her shoes. The significance of the numbers '0825' was probably far more profound than she had initially assumed.
Michael had not erased his tattoo or changed his password, which indicated that he still harbored feelings for someone. His mention of needing a spouse was likely a ploy to provoke his beloved—the lead attorney, Jasmine.
She was the same woman Isabella had spoken of.
The lock code of Michael's house was a clear giveaway. 'B' stood for Brown and 'M' for Moretz. It was as if she had cracked a code. Emma could not quite put her finger on her feelings at that moment.
She felt like a stand-in. She had planned to shed her coat and dive straight into work on her computer, but her gaze was drawn to a large bag full of boxed gifts. Michael's assistant had left it at the entrance.
The bag was brimming with at least a dozen boxes, each a riot of colors. Emma coughed lightly, her cheeks flushing as she hastily retreated from the scene. It was as though she were fleeing from a virus.
On the company's internal software, Isabella immediately messaged Emma as soon as she saw her online: [Who was the man on the phone?]
Emma replied: [A doctor from the hospital.] She chose not to disclose the details. It was not something to be proud of, and she was confident she could keep it under wraps for the duration of their one-year contract.
After sending the message, she opened the files for the MystiCorp project and began reviewing them one by one. After what felt like an eternity, the sound of the door unlocking startled her.
Before she could utter a word, Michael's towering figure had her pinned against the living room wall. Then, a kiss, heavy with the scent of alcohol, descended upon her.
"Please, Mr. Brown! Not here, I beg you..."