Chapter 6 The Second Torn Shirt

After parting ways with Iris, Emma went down to the underground parking garage and called Ben from her car.

She used a “car breakdown” as an excuse for not showing up the previous night and asked him to help with the maintenance. He agreed without hesitation.

She adjusted the pinhole camera hidden in her car and touched up her makeup.

The morning’s chaos replayed in her mind. Most people had worn neutral expressions, but Ivy James stood out, the only one watching with a faint, amused smile, as if enjoying a show. As the Logistics Director’s daughter and a key figure in the design department, Ivy had every reason to think she was untouchable.

Emma changed into a black parka and lingered in the shadows near the elevator, watching the crowd filter out.

Phone raised, she waited, ready to snap photos.

When Ivy clicked her way across the garage in high heels and climbed into a BMW 290, Emma confirmed her suspicion: Ivy was the one behind it.

Emma ducked into the hallway at once. In her hurry, she ran straight into a dark figure stepping out of the elevator.

Her phone flew from her hand, and she pitched forward.

A strong arm wrapped around her slim waist and hauled her into a solid, unyielding embrace.

She collided with a hard chest. Her hair tie snapped, and her silky blonde hair spilled down her back.

Instinctively, she clutched at his shirt. Two buttons popped off, one bouncing off her eyebrow.

“Ah!” she gasped, pressing her sore forehead against his chest. The familiar pine scent surrounded her.

She scrambled to steady herself, rubbing her eyebrow as she looked up at her rescuer.

“Mr. Hayes…” she breathed, cheeks flushing.

Their eyes met, and through her palm she could feel the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

Ryan tactfully turned his head away.

In the dim garage light, the lines of Liam’s collarbones and chest muscles were faintly visible through the open front of his shirt.

“That’s the second shirt you’ve torn,” Liam said, his face unreadable.

He’s right.

I tore the first one in his car.

He slowly withdrew his hand from her waist.

Emma carefully pulled his shirt back into place and straightened his tie.

Liam stood frozen for a moment, the heat between them simmering as his gaze flicked aside.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hayes,” she murmured, dropping her eyes.

He swallowed, then held out her phone.

She took it with both hands.

“Thanks,” she whispered, then hurried toward her car.

Once she was seated behind the wheel, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the steering wheel.

What rotten luck. Why do I keep running into him?

After Liam drove off, she got out again and returned to the elevator.

In the break room, she brewed two cups of coffee and broke a sleeping pill in half, dropping one piece into each cup.

On the second floor, she set the cups in front of the surveillance room door and knocked.

The door opened. The security guard scanned the empty corridor and saw only the two steaming cups with a note: Thank you for your hard work.

Smiling, he picked up the coffees and closed the door.

About ten minutes later, Emma knocked again. No one responded.

She checked both ends of the corridor, then slipped inside.

The surveillance system was working perfectly; it hadn’t malfunctioned at all. Only certain segments of footage had been deleted.

She located the missing footage on the computer, quickly backed it up, and slipped out as quietly as she’d come.

Back home, she ate a burger while reviewing the backup video.

At 1 a.m., the footage showed Ivy driving out of the underground parking garage in a rush.

Oh my God, did she see me with Liam?

If I expose her, will it affect his business?

Her pulse spiked at the thought.

…

Back at the office, the whispering still hadn’t stopped.

Ignoring the gossip, she called Ryan directly.

“Can you confirm if Mr. Hayes is available today? I’d like to schedule an appointment.”

“Just come up,” he replied without hesitation.

She took the elevator straight to the 30th floor.

Just before she stepped into the CEO’s office, she asked quietly, “Was the boss standing right next to you when you said that?”

“Good grief, you’re sharp.”

“… ”

Nervously, she knocked on the office door.

“Come in.” He set his pen down and fixed his gaze on her. “What is it?”

She gave him a full account of everything that had happened.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said lightly.

“I need her to apologise in person,” Emma said. “And I don’t want the company’s interests affected.”

He leaned back in his chair, voice steady. “The company won’t be affected. Are you sure you don’t want to handle this publicly?”

“The James family’s transport business works with us. There’ll be backlash,” she insisted.

“Worried about me?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head, face heating.

After a brief pause, she added quietly, “Ivy’s a girl. There’s no need to make things too hard on her.”

“All right. I’ll go with your approach,” he said, his tone carrying a gentle indulgence more suited to a lover than a boss.

Soon, Ryan brought Ivy in.

Emma sat quietly on the sofa.

“Liam, you wanted to see me?” Ivy forced a smile, tension visible in her shoulders.

“What did you just call me?” Liam looked up, his expression instantly darkening.

“Mr. Hayes,” she corrected herself at once.

“I didn’t call you. She did.” He clenched his jaw and dropped his gaze back to the documents.

Ivy’s hands trembled as she turned toward Emma.

Emma smiled and beckoned her over. “Hi, Ivy.”

“What’s going on, Emma? Couldn’t this be handled in private? Did you really have to interrupt Mr. Hayes’s work?” Ivy demanded, her tone turning cold.

She clearly still clung to the hope that Emma didn’t know the full story.

Liam’s irritation flared at hearing his name tossed around so casually, but Emma spoke first.