Chapter 5 Truth and Choices

# Chapter 5: Truth and Choices

Richard's downtown office occupied the entire top floor of a gleaming glass building. I'd been there only a handful of times, always for carefully orchestrated photo opportunities—the devoted family supporting the dedicated public servant. Today, I entered through the side entrance, sunglasses obscuring my face, heart hammering against my ribs.

Veronica's assistant, a sharp-eyed young woman named Megan, recognized me immediately. "Miss Greene," she greeted me, her expression revealing nothing. "Ms. Reed is expecting you."

She led me past the bustling campaign staff, through the maze of cubicles where eager interns and seasoned political operatives worked to craft Richard's public image. No one paid me much attention; they were used to seeing the candidate's family come and go.

Veronica's office was at the far end of the floor, a corner space with windows overlooking the city. When Megan ushered me in and closed the door behind me, Veronica was standing at the window, her back to me.

"Right on time," she said, turning. She wore a charcoal suit, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, every inch the professional political advisor. Only her eyes, dark and intense as they met mine, betrayed something deeper.

"You said you had a plan," I said, remaining near the door.

She gestured to the chair across from her desk. "Sit down, Alicia."

I did as she asked, watching as she moved to take her own seat. A folder lay between us on the polished surface of her desk—similar to the one she'd shown me at the café, but thicker.

"Everything is in place," she began, her voice low despite the privacy of her office. "In three days, these documents will be delivered to the State Attorney General's office, the FBI, and five major news outlets. Richard will be at the debate in Manchester, live on television, when the story breaks."

The calculated precision of it all sent a chill down my spine. "You've been planning this for a long time."

"Yes."

"Why?" I asked. "What did he do to you?"

Something flickered across her face—a shadow of old pain, quickly controlled. "That's not important."

"It is to me," I insisted. "If I'm going to throw away my entire life to run away with you, I deserve to know why we're doing this."

For a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer. Then she leaned back in her chair, her composure slipping just enough for me to glimpse the woman beneath the polished exterior.

"Six years ago, I was an aide to Senator Eleanor Mathis," she began. "I discovered evidence that your stepfather was involved in a scheme to funnel foreign money into her opponent's campaign. When I brought it to light, Richard used his connections to discredit me. I lost my job, my reputation, nearly everything."

She paused, her fingers tracing the edge of the folder between us. "Senator Mathis was like a mentor to me. She believed in me when no one else did. The scandal destroyed her career. She died a year later—officially from heart failure, but really from a broken heart."

"So this is about revenge," I said softly.

"Justice," she corrected. "And making sure he can't do the same to anyone else."

I absorbed this, trying to reconcile the calculating woman before me with the depth of loyalty she'd just revealed. "Why did you become his advisor? Why get so close?"

A cold smile curved her lips. "Know your enemy. I needed access to his records, his private conversations, his network. I needed evidence no one could dispute."

"And that's all it was? Just part of your plan?"

Her eyes met mine, unwavering. "At first, yes."

"And now?" I pressed.

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she rose from her chair and came around the desk to stand before me. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer than I'd ever heard it.

"Now there's you."

She reached down, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face with unexpected tenderness. The gesture made my breath catch.

"Which brings us to the next part of the plan," she continued, her professional demeanor returning as she moved back behind her desk. "We leave the morning after the story breaks. I have a private plane arranged from a small airfield outside the city. We'll fly to Toronto, then take connecting flights to ensure we can't be easily followed."

"And then?"

"I have a house on the coast of Spain. Remote, private. We can stay there until the worst of the media storm passes."

The reality of what we were planning hit me anew. "What about my mother? She'll be devastated when I disappear."

"You can leave her a letter," Veronica suggested. "Not explaining everything, but enough so she doesn't think you've been kidnapped. Once we're settled, you can contact her if you want."

I nodded slowly, my mind racing. "What about money? My accounts—"

"Will be monitored the moment you're reported missing," she finished. "I've set up an offshore account in a name that can't be traced back to either of us. Enough to keep us comfortable for years."

The thoroughness of her planning should have reassured me. Instead, it raised a question I'd been avoiding.

"Have you done this before? Disappeared with someone?"

Her expression softened slightly. "No, Alicia. This is a first for me too."

I wanted to believe her. More than that, I wanted to understand why she was including me in her escape plan. Was it guilt? Attraction? Or something deeper?

"There's something you're not telling me," I said, studying her face. "This isn't just about protecting me from the fallout."

Veronica hesitated, a rare moment of indecision crossing her features. Then she opened a drawer in her desk and withdrew a small envelope. From it, she pulled a newspaper clipping, yellowed with age, and handed it to me.

It was a society page from five years ago—my mother and Richard at their wedding reception. In the background, barely visible among the crowd of well-wishers, was me—seventeen years old, uncomfortable in a bridesmaid's dress I'd hated, my expression a careful mask of polite indifference.

"I don't understand," I said, looking up at her.

Veronica's eyes held mine, intense and unguarded. "I was already planning my revenge when I saw this photo. I recognized Richard, of course. But it was you who caught my attention. You looked so..." She paused, searching for the right word. "Trapped. I knew that look because I'd seen it in my own mirror."

I stared at her, the implication of her words slowly dawning on me. "You're saying you noticed me before you ever met me?"

"I more than noticed you, Alicia." Her voice was quiet but steady. "I researched you. I learned everything I could about you. Your interests, your school, your friends. The more I learned, the more I..." She trailed off.

"The more you what?" I pressed, my heart pounding.

"The more I needed to meet you," she admitted. "When Richard was looking for a new political advisor, I made sure my name was at the top of the list. I crafted the perfect resume, called in every favor I had."

"You're saying you became my stepfather's advisor to get close to me?" I asked incredulously. "That's—"

"Extreme," she finished. "I know how it sounds."

"Obsessive," I corrected. "Possibly insane."

A faint smile touched her lips. "I won't deny that."

I should have been terrified. I should have walked out then and there. Instead, I found myself laughing—a slightly hysterical sound that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me.

"All this time," I said, shaking my head in disbelief, "I thought I was the one watching you. Trying to figure you out. And you're telling me you engineered our entire meeting? That none of this was accidental?"

"Not the way I feel about you," she said softly. "That, I didn't plan for."

The sincerity in her voice caught me off guard. I looked back at the newspaper clipping, at my younger self—unaware that I was being observed, that I had somehow captured the attention of this complex, dangerous woman.

"I approached your stepfather to find you," Veronica continued, her voice steady despite the enormity of her confession. "I took evidence against him to get revenge for Senator Mathis. But I'm asking you to come with me because the thought of leaving you behind is..." She paused. "Unbearable."

The word hung in the air between us, raw and honest in a way I hadn't expected from her. I stood up, needing to move, to think.

"This is crazy," I said, pacing the length of her office. "You know that, right? This whole situation—it's insane."

"Yes," she agreed simply.

I turned to face her. "How do I know I can trust you? How do I know this isn't just another manipulation?"

She rose from her chair and came to stand before me, close enough that I could see the flecks of amber in her dark eyes. Without heels, she was only a few inches taller than me.

"You don't," she admitted. "Trust requires time and proof. I can't give you either right now. All I can offer is a choice—stay here and weather the storm that's coming, or come with me and take a chance on something unknown."

She reached out slowly, her fingers brushing against mine—a tentative touch, asking permission. I didn't pull away.

"I'm not asking you to love me, Alicia," she said quietly. "I'm asking you to choose freedom. Your freedom. Whether that includes me in the long run is a decision you can make later."

I looked at our hands, now intertwined, and felt the weight of the choice before me. Stay in the gilded cage I'd known all my life, or leap into the unknown with a woman who'd orchestrated her way into my life for reasons I still didn't fully understand.

"Three days," I finally said. "I'll be ready."

Relief softened her features. She lifted our joined hands and pressed a gentle kiss to my knuckles—a gesture so unexpectedly tender it made my heart constrict.

"Three days," she repeated. "And then we disappear."

As I left her office, navigating back through the busy campaign headquarters, I felt as though I was already becoming someone else—someone bolder, more reckless, more alive. Someone who had looked at the safe, predictable path laid out before her and chosen to step off it entirely.

I didn't know if I was making the biggest mistake of my life or the only decision that mattered. I didn't know if what I felt for Veronica was love or fascination or simply the intoxicating pull of rebellion. But for the first time in years, I was choosing my own fate.

Three days until everything changed. Three days until we disappeared.

I couldn't wait.