Chapter 3 A Betrayal in Spotlight

Riley stirred awake, her head pounding as the remnants of the drugged wine clouded her thoughts. The bright morning light seeped through the curtains, and with a sudden jolt, she realized how late it was. Sitting up in bed, she let out an exasperated laugh and a muttered, "Holy shit, I'm late!" The words echoed in the quiet of her room, a stark reminder of how carelessly the previous night had slipped away.

She scrambled out of bed, her heart racing as she hurried to get ready. Every second felt crucial now; she couldn't afford to miss whatever appointment or class lay ahead. In a flurry of motion, Riley threw on her clothes, barely glancing at her reflection in the mirror before darting out of her door. The taste of regret mingled with the urgency of the morning, and she silently vowed never to let her guard down like that again.

As she raced down the corridor, the events of the previous night replayed in fragments-a blur of laughter, whispered conversations, and fleeting moments that now seemed both vivid and distant. For Riley, every minute counted, especially now that the day had begun on such a frantic note. The pressure of balancing her responsibilities with the challenges of her new life weighed heavily on her, but today, she knew, she had to focus on making up for lost time.

Outside, the city was already alive with the hustle and bustle of a new day. With determination overriding the grogginess, Riley stepped into the chaos of the morning, ready to face whatever awaited her-even if she had started the day in a state of desperate disarray.

Riley hurried into the office, her heart racing as she spotted her boss approaching the elevator. She picked up her pace, determined to catch him before the doors closed.

"Excuse me, sir! Wait-sir, hold the elevator!" she called out, but Wyatt had already stepped inside. The doors slid shut without hesitation.

She let out an annoyed huff. "Didn't he hear me? What an asshole," she muttered under her breath.

Just as she turned away, the elevator doors unexpectedly opened again. Riley blinked in surprise, finding Wyatt standing inside, one brow raised in amusement.

"Good morning, Mr. Wyatt," she said, regaining her composure.

Wyatt smirked. "No longer an asshole?"

Riley froze for a second, embarrassed that he had heard her. She quickly pressed her lips together, unsure how to respond.

Wyatt let out a quiet chuckle. "Well? Are you getting in or just going to stand there in silence?"

Snapping out of it, she quickly stepped into the elevator. The ride down was quiet, tension thick in the air. When the doors opened, Wyatt stepped out first, heading toward his office.

Riley exhaled before following after him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wyatt," she called out.

Wyatt suddenly stopped in his tracks, and before she could react, she crashed straight into him. She gasped, stumbling back.

He turned slightly, his gaze sharp. "You're my new secretary, right?"

Riley quickly straightened herself, clearing her throat. "Yes, sir. I'm Riley Watson."

Wyatt studied her for a moment, his piercing blue eyes scanning her face with a flicker of recognition. "Are you sure we haven't met before?"

Riley's breath hitched, but she forced a calm smile, shaking her head. "I don't believe so, sir."

Wyatt held her gaze for a few seconds longer before shrugging. "Hmm. Must be my imagination."

He turned and continued toward his office, and Riley let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over her.

As they entered, Wyatt casually leaned against his desk. "Go downstairs and get me my usual coffee," he instructed.

Riley pulled out a notepad, prepared to jot it down. "And what exactly is your usual?"

Wyatt glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "I take a triple-shot espresso macchiato with oat milk, a dash of cinnamon, precisely one and a half pumps of vanilla syrup, and exactly 140-degree steamed milk. No foam. Oh, and make sure they use the imported Colombian beans-not the regular blend."

Riley blinked, stunned by the absurdly detailed order. "That's... quite the coffee."

Wyatt smirked. "Problem?"

She shook her head, smiling slightly. "No, sir. Just making sure I don't mess up what sounds like a very particular ritual."

"Good. Don't mess it up," he said, before turning his attention to his computer.

Riley turned to leave, suppressing a chuckle. A coffee order that complicated? This job was going to be interesting.

After Riley left, Wyatt sat alone in his office, leaning back in his chair. He drummed his fingers against the desk, his mind drifting back to the new secretary.

Riley Watson.

That name. Why did it sound so familiar? There was something about her-something he couldn't quite put his finger on. The way she looked at him, the way she spoke, even the way she moved. It nagged at him, like a half-forgotten memory just out of reach.

Then it hit him. That night.

Wyatt's eyes narrowed slightly. Could she be the same girl? Before he could dwell on the thought, the door to his office opened, pulling him back to the present.

"Mr. Wyatt," his manager, Jordan, announced as he stepped inside. "Miss Ivy has arrived and is settling in. The press will begin circulating the news soon."

Wyatt nodded, pushing the thought of Riley aside. Without a word, he pulled out his sleek black debit card and placed it on the desk. "Make sure she gets everything she needs."

Jordan smirked, pocketing the card. "Of course, sir."

Meanwhile, Riley was at her desk, gathering her things and preparing to leave for the day when the office door swung open.

In walked Miranda, the company's senior executive assistant-a woman known for her sharp tongue and even sharper fashion sense.

"Riley," Miranda called, crossing her arms. "I need you to pick up Mr. Wyatt from his business dinner."

Riley frowned, glancing at the clock. "But it's already past seven. I'm off for the day."

Miranda let out a light giggle, shaking her head. "Oh, darling. It's only seven. You're done when Mr. Wyatt says you're done."

Riley bit the inside of her cheek, frustration bubbling beneath her skin. "Isn't his usual driver available?"

"Busy." Miranda shrugged. "He's moving in Wyatt's new girlfriend."

Riley froze mid-motion. "...His what?"

Miranda gave her an amused look. "His girlfriend. You know, the woman he's been dating? The press is all over it. She's moving into his mansion tonight."

Riley felt something cold settle in her stomach. Moving in?

Wyatt had a girlfriend. And not just any girlfriend-one serious enough to move in with him.

Her mind whirled, flashes of that night creeping in. Had he cheated on her with me?

She clenched her jaw. That prick.

Miranda arched a brow at her silence, then let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, don't tell me you're just now figuring this out." She scoffed. "How can you be so dense? It's been all over the internet."

Riley swallowed hard, shaking her head. "I just... I didn't think-" she hesitated. "I didn't think Mr. Wyatt had a girlfriend."

"A serious one too," Miranda added. "No woman has ever moved in before."

Riley forced herself to keep her expression neutral, but her grip on her purse tightened.

Miranda stepped back, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Anyway, don't keep Mr. Wyatt waiting. Get going."

Riley stood frozen for a moment as Miranda walked out, the door clicking shut behind her.

She exhaled heavily, trying to push away the unsettling feeling in her chest.

"Great," she muttered under her breath. "Just great."

As Riley made her way down the dimly lit hallway, her phone buzzed in her hand. She sighed, glancing down at the screen. A trending notification flashed across it-a video of Mr. Wyatt's girlfriend.

Curious, she tapped on it, and the video began playing. The screen filled with clips of a woman stepping out of a sleek black car, cameras flashing wildly as reporters scrambled to capture the moment. She was being escorted into a grand estate.

Riley's brow furrowed. Why does this place look so familiar?

She studied the video closely, her pulse quickening. Wait... this looks like my house.

A strange unease crawled up her spine. Her grip on the phone tightened as she focused on the woman in the video. She was dressed in designer clothes, exuding effortless confidence. But there was something about her...

Riley's breath hitched.

No.

It couldn't be.

She leaned in, watching as the woman turned her head slightly. Ivy.

Her best friend.

Riley's stomach dropped.

Her head spun as she tried to process what she was seeing. No. That's impossible. There's no way.

Her mind reeled, trying to make sense of it all. Was she imagining things?

She shook her head. No, Riley, you're overthinking. You're being paranoid.

But deep down, a sinking feeling told her she wasn't.