The Abandoned Groom Married his Ex's Enemy!

Nothing happened.

For the first week, Alexander almost found that suspicious.

Then another passed with nothing more alarming than traffic, meetings that ran too long, and Elias Navarro becoming increasingly competent at his job.

By the end of the month, Elias had become exactly what Alexander originally hired him to be.

A driver.

He arrived early, kept the vehicle in excellent condition, chose routes intelligently, and possessed the increasingly valuable ability to remain silent while Alexander worked in the back seat.

Their routine settled quickly.

Some days began before sunrise and ended well after dark. Plans changed. Meetings overran their schedules. A supposed fifteen-minute stop occasionally became two hours.

Elias adjusted without complaint.

More importantly, he drove well.

That mattered to Alexander more than he liked admitting.

During Elias’s first few days, he still found himself looking up whenever traffic slowed unexpectedly. He noticed how closely Elias followed the vehicle ahead and became aware of every approach toward a busy intersection.

The habit had existed for years.

Joe had eventually become one of the few people Alexander trusted enough that the vigilance faded into the background.

Little by little, the same thing was beginning to happen with Elias.

Alexander could drive.

He simply preferred not to.

Ben’s death had ensured that what should’ve been an ordinary skill never became entirely ordinary again. Knowing the investigation had cleared him couldn’t erase the memory of metal folding around them or the hospital ceiling he’d woken beneath without his brother.

Elias knew only what Joe might’ve told him.

He never asked.

He simply drove.

By the third week, Alexander realized he’d spent almost an entire trip reviewing documents without once checking the road.

That was probably the strongest compliment he could’ve given Joe’s replacement.

He’d almost forgotten Elias was there.

Still, Alexander hadn’t abandoned the precautions attached to the man’s probation.

Sensitive negotiations remained inside Vance Holdings. Confidential documents stayed closed during travel unless necessary, and discussions involving the Sebastian family or the anonymous sender took place in secure offices.

It was inconvenient.

But temporary.

More importantly, Elias had given Alexander one reason after another to believe hiring him hadn’t been a mistake.

Including the messages.

Because they hadn’t stopped.

They’d simply become less frequent.

The first warning had been blunt.

Tell Vance nothing.

Elias had reported it.

The next arrived several days later.

A photograph of Alexander’s car outside a hotel.

No message.

Elias forwarded it directly to Security.

Another showed the vehicle parked beside a construction site.

Then:

Good.

That one bothered Alexander.

”What exactly do they think you’ve done well?” he asked when Elias showed him.

Elias looked equally unimpressed.

”Apparently, whatever I’m pretending not to tell you.”

”So keep pretending.”

That became the arrangement.

Elias didn’t respond.

Didn’t block the number.

Didn’t alter his routine.

He simply preserved everything and passed it along.

The sender apparently interpreted silence as obedience.

Which was precisely what Alexander wanted.

For now.

Their investigation produced considerably less.

Maribel Ortega’s history looked ordinary.

She’d spent years working for Victoria Sebastian before leaving. No unexplained money appeared in her records, and nothing suggested she’d intentionally placed Elias anywhere near Alexander.

Elias himself produced equally little.

His finances were clean. His old employment history checked out, and nothing suggested he’d risk a stable position by spying on his employer.

Eventually, Giovanni said what Alexander had begun thinking.

”Maybe Elias isn’t the connection.”

They were sitting in Alexander’s office late one afternoon.

Alexander looked up.

”Then what is?”

”Maybe somebody only wants us to think he is.”

”Why?”

”That’s what we’re missing.”

Alexander leaned back.

”Andrei thinks the Sebastian connection may be bait.”

”Convenient bait.”

”Very.”

Nobody needed to manufacture hostility between the families.

Victoria had manipulated Augustus.

Dominic had attacked Alexander and Giovanni through the media.

Andrei had replaced Dominic as CEO.

The suspicion already existed.

All someone had to do was point toward it.

Giovanni looked toward the windows.

”And still nothing for me.”

Alexander knew exactly what he meant.

”No.”

”No unknown numbers.”

”No.”

”No photographs.”

”Apparently you’ve been neglected.”

Giovanni gave him a look.

Alexander almost smiled.

The humor didn’t last.

The silence surrounding Giovanni had become almost more interesting than the messages.

”If someone wanted trouble between us,” Giovanni said, ”they’d contact me.”

”Probably.”

”If they wanted me suspicious of Sebastian Group, they’d send me something useful.”

”They haven’t.”

Giovanni tapped one finger against the armrest.

”So they’re willing to use me in photographs...”

”But they don’t want you participating.”

”Exactly.”

Neither had an answer.

Not yet.

A month after their first dinner at Matteo’s, they returned.

No site inspection was attached.

No conveniently urgent logistics discussion either.

That had become increasingly normal.

Alexander had stopped manufacturing reasons for every meal.

Giovanni, wisely, had stopped pointing it out.

Elias drove him there shortly before seven.

The same guard recognized the car and raised a hand.

This time, he didn’t ask where Joe was.

Progress.

Giovanni was already waiting near the entrance when Alexander stepped out.

His attention shifted toward Elias.

”You’ve eaten?”

”Not yet.”

”Improvement.”

”I learn quickly.”

”Good. Order something.”

Elias hesitated.

”Sir, you don’t have to keep feeding me.”

”I know.”

Alexander shut the car door.

”Don’t bother. He likes that answer.”

Giovanni ignored him.

The waiter approached.

”A sandwich is fine,” Elias said.

”Get dinner,” Alexander added.

Elias looked between them.

Apparently both men had decided his eating habits were now a management concern.

”Fine.”

Giovanni nodded.

”Better.”

Elias shook his head.

”I wasn’t used to this with previous employers.”

”Used to what?” Giovanni asked.

”The boss’s business partner worrying whether the driver ate.”

Alexander turned toward Giovanni.

”He’s right. It’s strange.”

”And yet you keep benefiting from it.”

”I haven’t received anything tonight.”

”You’re eating inside.”

”Different.”

Elias smiled despite himself.

Then his attention drifted upward.

Toward the sign.

MATTEO’S.

He’d looked at it before.

The name had bothered him then.

It bothered him again now.

Matteo.

For weeks, he’d been trying to understand why.

Old jobs had blurred together over the years. Maintenance yards, construction sites, delivery routes, mechanics he’d barely remembered working beside.

This time, though, another name connected itself to the first.

Mercer.

Elias frowned.

”Mr. Mercer.”

Giovanni stopped.

”Yes?”

”Can I ask you something?”

”Of course.”

Elias pointed toward the sign.

”Matteo.”

Alexander looked over.

”Who was he?”

”My father.”

Elias went completely still.

”Your father?”

”Yes.”

”Matteo Mercer?”

Something in Giovanni’s expression changed.

”Yes.”

And suddenly, the memory returned.

Not all of it.

Enough.

A construction site.

Emergency vehicles.

A maintenance company drowning in investigators and angry clients afterward.

The same name repeated endlessly until even workers who’d never met the victim knew it.

Elias looked at Giovanni differently.

”You’re Giovanni Mercer.”

”Yes.”

Alexander noticed the color draining from Elias’s face.

”Elias?”

The older man barely seemed to hear him.

Giovanni stepped closer.

”Did you know my father?”

Elias swallowed.

”In a way, sir.”

The shift to ”sir” changed the atmosphere.

”What way?”

Elias looked from Giovanni to Alexander, then back to the sign.

”I worked for Calderon Maintenance Services.”

Giovanni stopped moving.

”Calderon?”

”Yes.”

”When?”

Elias gave him the years.

Something emptied from Giovanni’s expression.

”My father’s company used Calderon.”

”A lot of construction companies did.”

”Including the site where he died.”

Silence.

Elias finally understood why Matteo’s name had refused to leave him alone.

”Mr. Mercer...”

Then said the words that erased whatever plans they’d had for dinner.

”I remember that accident.”