The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife

Liam's POV

Fiona's words hit me like a freight train, but she wasn't finished. Each revelation that spilled from her lips made my blood run colder as I realized how blind I'd been to the betrayal festering right under my nose.

"Those private investigators you've been hiring to track down that mysterious woman," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. I nodded, my jaw clenching. "I got suspicious when I noticed them huddled up with Bianca every time they visited your office. The most recent one caught my attention when I spotted him at that little bistro around the corner from headquarters, deep in conversation with Clairemont and Bianca."

My hands balled into fists as she continued.

"The owner's a dear friend of mine, so I drop by regularly. I overheard Clairemont praising the investigator's exceptional service, saying he was extremely pleased with the results. But that same afternoon, I heard you telling Damian that the man had come up empty-handed, claiming it was impossible to locate the woman. How could Clairemont be satisfied if nothing had been found?"

The implications crashed over me like a tidal wave. Fiona wasn't just observant - she was a walking intelligence network who'd been quietly cataloging every suspicious interaction in my company. This conversation was going to take all night at this rate. I needed fresh air and had to let Hazel know I wouldn't be coming back to her place tonight.

"Give me a moment," I said, stepping toward the garden to make the call.

"Mr. Sterling, I'm in a generous mood today. You should take advantage," Hazel's playful voice made me smile despite the chaos swirling in my head.

"My beautiful angel," I started, my voice catching slightly. I cleared my throat, fighting back the emotion. "I won't be able to see you tonight."

"Is everything alright, Liam?" The concern threading through her voice made my chest tighten.

"It will be. But there's a mountain of information to process, and most of it I never saw coming."

"Take your time. Handle what you need to handle. We'll talk when you're ready."

After we hung up, I turned to find Damian standing behind me. His hand landed firmly on my shoulder.

"We're going to face this storm together," he said with fierce determination. "If we have to tear down mountains to get justice, that's exactly what we'll do."

I nodded, drawing strength from his unwavering support as we headed back inside.

Fiona had transformed into a one-woman intelligence briefing, her memory sharp as a blade. Every scrap of overheard conversation, every suspicious glance she'd witnessed and filed away was now pouring out in a torrent of crucial information. She rattled off names like she was reading from a dossier - coffee shop staff, cleaning crews, secretaries, various employees - categorizing each person as either trustworthy or compromised. The loyal ones would become our informants. The traitors would quietly disappear from our payroll.

For hours, Fiona unfolded drama after drama like the world's most shocking soap opera. Her memory was frighteningly precise, and she knew every single person in my company better than I'd ever imagined possible.

"Since I'm spilling all the secrets tonight," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, "Mr. Allen, stop wasting precious time. Evelyn has feelings for you too, and has for quite a while. I know you care about her."

Even this? Fiona's network of observation extended to office romances? Evelyn had never given the slightest indication of her feelings. Allen looked caught between elation and complete bewilderment while Damian and I exchanged amused glances. Ever since his wife passed away, Allen had been transparent about his feelings for Evelyn, but she'd remained professionally distant.

When Fiona finally exhausted her vault of secrets, she looked drained, and the rest of us sat in stunned silence. This woman had somehow discovered that our married-for-forty-years Accounting Director was conducting a torrid affair with a twenty-something junior accountant. According to Fiona, it was the scandal of the century.

Damian arranged for his driver to take Fiona home safely. We agreed she would continue serving as our eyes and ears, providing Nina with comprehensive daily reports. I insisted on a substantial raise and a loyalty bonus, despite her protests that she was helping from the heart and wanted no compensation. Her dedication deserved recognition, whether she wanted it or not.

Once she left, we spent the remainder of the night strategizing our response to each piece of intelligence she'd provided. Allen pointed out that Fiona had essentially handed us a roadmap - she'd identified our enemies and told us exactly where to find them. We worked until dawn, and by the time we finished, exhaustion had settled deep in my bones. I managed a few hours of sleep in one of Damian's guest rooms before dragging myself to the office.

The following day was brutal. Fatigue clouded my thoughts, and a persistent headache pounded behind my temples. By late afternoon, I'd retreated to the couch in my office and swallowed a painkiller, desperate for relief. I leaned back, closing my eyes for just a moment, and consciousness slipped away.

My phone's shrill ringtone jolted me awake. Adrian's name flashed on the screen.

"Please tell me Hazel didn't dump you again and you're not drowning your sorrows in a bottle," he said with his typical sarcasm.

"Nothing that dramatic. I was up all night working. What's going on? Is Hazel safe?" I asked, instantly alert.

"What do I look like, a professional bodyguard?"

"Lately? Pretty much - you're watching over my woman," I replied, unable to suppress a grin.

"Fair point, can't argue with that logic. Meet me at the shopping center where Stella works, and make it fast. The ladies are planning a shopping expedition for some dangerously attractive dresses. I've already coordinated with the other guys, just need you to loop in Damian. But we need to be in position before they arrive."

"Consider it done. Damian just walked through my door," I said as Damian approached my desk.

An hour later, we converged at the mall, ready for whatever the evening would bring.