Chapter Twenty
1200 Words
Chapter Twenty
(Adrian’s POV)
The final alert disappeared from the screen.
The main monitor turned green.
External access severed.
For one second, no one in the IT department moved.
Then one of the engineers let out a shaky laugh.
“She did it.”
Another voice followed. “She actually closed the breach.”
“Oh my God, she saved the build.”
Nia leaned back from the keyboard, her fingers still hovering over the keys. She looked pale, like the strength that had carried her through the last few minutes was beginning to c***k, but her voice stayed steady.
“The stolen intel is still out there,” she said. “But the leak is closed. I trapped the transfer path, isolated the compromised credential, and blocked the external mirror. We have a trail now.”
The department head stared at her as if he had never seen her before. “Ms. Caldwell, that was incredible.”
One of the younger engineers stepped closer to the screen. “How did you find the mirror link that fast?”
Nia pushed herself to her feet. “Just luck.”
I stood in the doorway and stared at her.
I didn’t understand.
The monitors behind her were filled with code, logs, and security commands I could barely follow. Caldwell Group’s software launch was not a small internal project. It was worth billions. It had entire teams attached to it, specialists recruited from firms across the world, and investors watching every stage of its development.
And Nia had fixed it in minutes.
She had sat down and done it herself.
Nia.
My wife.
The woman everyone said was too quiet. Poor. Uneducated. A waitress before the Caldwell’s found her. The girl who hadn’t even graduated high school.
She was supposed to be a housewife.
The thought was ugly, but it was mine.
I had treated her that way. A wife who sat at my table, walked through my house, and stayed in the background when I didn’t need her. A woman who looked proper beside me but did not interfere with the life I already had.
She wasn’t supposed to save a billion-dollar projects while trained engineers looked at her like she had performed a miracle.
People crowded around her.
“You were amazing.”
“I’ve never seen anyone move through code like that.”
“You built part of the original framework, didn’t you?”
Nia’s expression shifted.
Only for a second.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “A long time ago.”
The room went still while I stared at her.
She had built part of it.
How the hell had I not known?
Nia walked toward the door, and I stepped into her path before I could stop myself.
She looked up at me.
The shadows beneath her eyes were darker now. She was tired, but she did not shrink from me.
“How did you do it?” I asked.
Her gaze held mine.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she gave me a sad smile.
“You didn’t really know me, did you, Adrian?”
My throat tightened.
“Our marriage was a business deal,” she said. “And that was how you treated me. I shrank myself into the role of your wife to make my family and you happy.”
“Nia…”
“No.” Her voice stayed soft, but the word still cut. “None of you asked me. You didn’t ask me a single question. You assumed you knew everything you needed to. There’s no reason to act surprised now.”
I had no answer.
Because she was right.
I knew the wife who sat across from me at dinner. I knew the woman who moved quietly through my house. I knew the woman I expected to be there when I wanted her and disappear when I didn’t.
I didn’t know this woman.
Because I had never asked.
Nia stepped around me.
I let her go.
Beside me, Sienna made a sharp sound.
“There’s no way.”
I turned.
Her face had gone pale. For one careless second, guilt flashed across her eyes.
Then she smiled.
Too quickly.
Too brightly.
“There’s no way Nia fixed that on her own,” she said. “Think about it, Adrian. The only way she could fix the issue that quickly is if she caused it.”
I stared at her.
“She was a high school dropout,” Sienna continued. “She has no skills. She doesn’t know anything about the technology. She can’t fix code on a project this large unless she already knew where the problem was. She must of created it.”
“Shut up.”
Sienna froze.
Her eyes widened. “Adrian…”
“I said shut up.”
Her mouth trembled, already preparing tears.
I was tired of those too.
I walked away before she could turn them into another scene.
In the hallway, I pulled out my phone and called my private investigator.
He answered on the second ring. “Mr. Blackwood.”
“I need you to look into my wife’s background.”
“How deep?”
“Deep. Education. Employment. Scholarships. Training. Bank records. People she knew before the Caldwell brought her home. Anything connected to Caldwell Group’s software division.”
“Understood.”
“I don’t want the version the Caldwell’s gave society,” I said. “I want the truth. Dig until there is nothing left to find.”
“I’ll get it done.”
I ended the call and stood there, phone still in my hand.
I should have done this a long time ago.
No.
I should have asked her.
That was the part I could not dismiss.
I had investigated companies before signing contracts. I had investigated rivals before trusting them. I had investigated executives before hiring them.
But I had married Nia with nothing except a family story and my own indifference.
My phone rang before I reached the elevator.
Mom.
I answered. “Yes?”
“Come home,” she said.
Her voice was sharp.
“I’m at Caldwell Group.”
“I know where you are. Come home now. And bring Nia.”
I looked back toward the IT department.
“She won’t come with me.”
“Then convince her.”
A bitter laugh nearly escaped me. “You make that sound simple.”
“Adrian.”
“I’ll come home.”
“With Nia.”
“I said I’ll come home.”
Silence.
Then Mom’s voice cooled. “Do not make me come there myself.”
The call ended.
Outside, my driver opened the car door.
“Blackwood Manor, sir?”
I looked back at the Caldwell Group building.
Nia was still inside.
The woman I had underestimated.
The woman I had bargained with as if her children were a mistake to erase.
My grip tightened around my phone.
“Blackwood Estate,” I said.
The driver closed the door.
As the car pulled away, I stared at the investigator’s number on my screen.
This time, I was going to learn the truth.
Even if every answer made me look worse.
- Writer
