Kim Shaw clutched the thin blanket to her chest, her voice pitching up in shock. "Mr. Hanson? What is he doing in here? And who is that girl in his arms?"
Oliver Hanson’s expression was thunderous. "Isn't it obvious? He's here screwing around, too."
The girl was completely shielded in Gonzalez's arms, swallowed by his large bathrobe, keeping her hidden from view.
Oliver was furious. Gonzalez had been hiding in that closet, watching them for God knew how long. Oliver wasn't worried about anything else—if his secret affair with Kim was ruined, so be it—but he was terrified Gonzalez would leak this to his wife.
Irritated and panicking, Oliver snapped at Kim. "Put your clothes on and get the hell out!"
"Mr. Hanson!" Kim scrambled, panicking. "Our relationship is exposed. Is he going to retaliate against me?"
Oliver’s fleshy cheeks sagged in a scowl. He grabbed his clothes and yanked them on. "I'll transfer you to H City. You leave tonight."
Kim had no choice but to agree, a calculating gleam flashing in her eyes. "I’ve done everything for you, and now I've lost my job. You owe me some compensation!"
Oliver sneered at her. "I'll have a house in H City transferred to your name."
Kim perked up immediately. "Thank you, Mr. Hanson."
*
Gonzalez found a vacant room and carried Norah inside, intending to set her down on the sofa. But the girl in his arms clung to his shirt, refusing to let go.
Feeling the dampness seeping through the fabric at his shoulder, Gonzalez froze, a flash of genuine panic crossing his face. "Norah!"
He set her down gently and pulled back the edge of the bathrobe. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, his chest tightened painfully.
Norah had been raised with every privilege, but she had never been fragile. Seeing her cry like this dragged up the memory of that late-night phone call. He still regretted it—regretted not going to her when she had been sobbing uncontrollably.


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