23 Chapter 23 – A Confrontation Between the Shelves.
“Who says I can’t understand it?” I asked, looking directly at Miles.
His mouth twisted into a condescending smile. “This research represents years of advanced study in molecular engineering and energy conversion. With your… limited background, you’d be lucky to grasp even the introduction.”
I was about to respond when a voice cut through the tension.
“Wait, Juliana Johnson?” A man stepped forward from the group of researchers. “From Westmont University?”
I turned, surprised. “Yes…”
“Mason Coleman,” he said, extending his hand. “I was at the Energy Innovation Summit last year. You were part of the team that presented the hydrogen catalyst breakthrough.”
Miles scoffed. “You must be mistaking her for someone else.”
Mason shook his head. “No mistake. I remember the project clearly. It was revolutionary- reduced catalyst degradation by nearly forty percent.” He turned to me. “Though your name wasn’t listed as lead researcher, Dr. Emma mentioned you were instrumental to the breakthrough.”
I kept my expression neutral despite my racing heart. I’d been careful to keep my connection to Dr. Emma Bella hidden. “I was just an undergraduate assistant,” I said carefully.
“Don’t be modest,” Mason insisted. “Dr. Emma specifically credited you during the Q&A.”
Miles crossed his arms. “If she was so brilliant, why is she working as a data entry clerk instead of pursuing an advanced degree?”
I met his gaze steadily. “Life takes unexpected turns.”
Miles narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to challenge Mason in front of the team. “Well, regardless of your past work, you’re here now, and your role is clear.” He gestured dismissively. “Since you’re so eager to be useful, go organize the research archives in the library. They need cataloging.”
“The library?” someone whispered. “That’ll take weeks.”
Miles smirked. “Consider it an opportunity to familiarize yourself with our work, Mrs. Ricardo. Perhaps you’ll learn something.”
I gathered my things without argument. Being sent to the library was actually perfect–I could access information without constant surveillance.
“The library is on the fourth floor,” Mason told me quietly as I passed. “Sorry about Miles. He’s…
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territorial.”
“Thank you for speaking up,” I replied. “It’s fine. I’m used to proving myself.”
The Ricardo Group’s research library was impressive–rows of shelves filled with bound journals, technical manuals, and proprietary research dating back decades. The room smelled of paper and silence, with large windows offering a view of the city below.
I ran my fingers along the spines of several bound journals. The isolation was a relief after the tension in the lab. Here, I could think clearly, plan my next moves.
I settled at a reading desk with several volumes related to neurodegenerative disorders. If I could just find something to help Old Mrs. Margaret…
Time slipped away as I immersed myself in the research. The quiet of the library was broken only by the occasional rustle of pages and my own notes.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. A text message from an unknown number:
“Where are you? Grandmother insists on lunch with both of us. – N”
Nathaniel. I hesitated, then tucked the phone away without responding. I needed this time to research, and his grandmother’s matchmaking attempts would have to wait.
Twenty minutes later, I was deep in an article about experimental treatments when the library door opened. I didn’t look up, assuming it was another researcher.
“Well, well. What do we have here?”
I froze at the familiar voice. Slowly, I raised my head to see Liam Ricardo standing between the shelves, watching me with a predatory smile.
“Working hard, or hardly working?” he asked, sauntering closer.
I closed the journal. “What do you want, Liam?”
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” He leaned against the shelf, blocking my exit path. “Especially when I’ve been hearing such interesting rumors about you.”
I stood, gathering my notes. “I’m busy.”
“Too busy for me? That’s not how I remember it.” His eyes hardened. “Four years I pursued you, and now suddenly you’re married to my uncle? Quite the social climber, aren’t you?”
“I don’t owe you explanations,” I replied coldly.
“Don’t you?” He stepped closer. “You know, Imogen told me you were plotting this all along. Playing hard to get with me while eyeing the bigger prize.”
I laughed bitterly. “Rewriting history now, Liam? You pursued me relentlessly, then dumped me
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the moment you learned I was an illegitimate child. Your exact words were that I wasn’t ‘suitable wife material‘ for someone of your standing”
“And I was right,” he snapped. “You weren’t suitable as a wife. But as a mistress…” His eyes traveled down my body. “That was always on the table.”
Disgust washed over me. “Get out of my way.”
“Why? So you can continue your gold–digging ways?” He stepped closer, backing me against the bookshelf. “How did you do it, Juliana? How did you trap my uncle into marriage when you couldn’t even hold my interest?”
“I didn’t trap anyone. Now move.”
“Not until we clear the air. His voice lowered. “You know, I’ve missed you. There was always something… irresistible about you.”
“Strange. You didn’t find me irresistible when you were proposing to Imogen.”
His face darkened. “That’s different. Imogen is suitable for marriage. She understands her role. But you…” He reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek. “You’re fire. Always have been.”
I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Playing the faithful wife now?” He laughed. “We both know this marriage is a sham. My grandmother’s losing her mind, and uncle Nathaniel is just playing along.”
“You don’t know anything about my marriage.”
“I know enough.” He moved closer, trapping me against the shelves. “I know you still want me. Why else would you take a job here?”
“I work here because I need to,” I snapped. “Not everything revolves around you, Liam.”
His eyes flashed. “You think you’re too good for me now? Remember who you are, Juliana. The bastard daughter who wasn’t even wanted by her own mother.”
The words stung, but I kept my face impassive. “At least I’m not a hypocrite who judges people based on their birth while claiming to love them.”
“Love?” He laughed harshly. “I never said I loved you. I wanted you. There’s a difference.”
“And now you need to leave me alone. I’m married.”
“To a man who doesn’t want you,” he sneered. “Do you think my uncle actually cares about you? You’re a nuisance to him–a problem to be managed.”
“That’s between me and him.”
“He won’t protect you, you know. Once you’re no longer useful in managing grandmother, you’ll be discarded.” He leaned in, his breath hot on my face. “But I could help you. In exchange for…
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certain considerations.”
“I’d rather starve on the street.”
His expression hardened. “Always so stubborn.” Without warning, he grabbed my wrists, pinning them against the shelf. “Maybe you need a reminder of what we had.”
“We never had anything,” I spat, struggling against his grip.
“Liar.” He leaned in, trying to force a kiss. “I know you remember how good it was between us.”
I brought my knee up sharply, connecting with his groin. As he doubled over in pain, I slapped
him hard across the face.
“Touch me again,” I said, my voice low and dangerous, “and you’ll regret it.”
Liam stumbled back, his face contorted with pain and rage. “You bitch! You think your sham marriage will protect you? Your husband can’t do anything to me. I’m the next in line for Ricardo Group!”
“Who said he can’t do anything?” a cold voice interrupted from the shadows.
Nathaniel stepped into view from between the bookshelves, his expression thunderous as he stared at his nephew sprawled on the floor.
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