The company dormitory was a modern, glass-and-steel structure a mile from the Lucas headquarters. It was a world away from the mansion's suffocating antiques and Charlotte's constant presence. But for Robert, the freedom was instantly replaced by a fresh wave of panic.
He stood in the hallway of the residential floor, the duffel bag slung over his shoulder feeling impossibly heavy. The dormitory was designed for communal living: shared lounges, study spaces, and, worst of all, shared suites.
His assigned suite, 3B, had an open door. Robert pushed it wider and stepped inside. It was a spacious two-bedroom unit with a small kitchenette and a living area littered with loose papers and a few designer suitcases.
A man was sitting on the couch, reviewing documents under the bright glare of a standing lamp. He was older than Robert—perhaps twenty-four or twenty-five—with dark, neatly styled hair, a sharp jawline, and an air of relaxed competence. He was dressed in a simple, high-quality collared shirt, and the cuff of one sleeve was pushed up, revealing a heavy, expensive watch.
This had to be his new roommate.
The man looked up, his expression shifting from focused concentration to easy curiosity. His eyes were a startling shade of hazel, and they assessed Robert with a quick, professional intensity.
"Hey. You must be Robert Lucas," the man said, rising smoothly. He extended a hand. "I'm David Richard. Diamond merchant. Or, as Theodore Lucas calls me, a valuable associate. Welcome to the cage."
Robert took the hand, trying to replicate the firm, dry handshake her tutor had coached her on. David's grip was warm and confident, and the sudden, physical contact sent a fleeting jolt of panic through Emily.
"Robert," she managed, forcing the masculine vocal tone. "Lucas."
"Yeah, I figured," David chuckled, releasing her hand. "The name's hard to miss. I heard you're Theodore's new protégé. Big shoes, man. You look a little young to be dealing with the Asian supply chain crisis, but hey, I don't judge."
Robert felt a blush creeping up her neck, furious at David's casual assessment of her youth and slight build. She quickly covered the feeling with feigned indifference.
"I learn fast," Robert said stiffly, moving to the nearest bedroom door and pushing it open. "Which room is mine?"
"That one's yours. The window faces the park, better view," David replied easily, returning to his spot on the couch. "Don't bother unpacking too much. We work weird hours. I'm usually up until three in the morning, which means you get the bathroom first."
As Robert closed the door behind her, she leaned her back against the cool wood, letting out a silent, shaky breath. The crisis wasn't the business, or even Charlotte—it was this room.
She looked around the bedroom. It was sparse and neutral. She immediately checked the closet, finding a small, high shelf. The binder, the wig, the feminine items—they all go here, hidden above eye-level.
Robert quickly unzipped the duffel bag and began her inventory. She had brought two binders, several layers of concealing undershirts, and a supply of specialized men's grooming products to mask any lingering feminine scents.
David's voice suddenly drifted through the thin wall. He was on a call, the voice low and persuasive.
"...No, Marco, those stones are dull. I need something that reflects the light like a perfect sunrise. Lucas doesn't buy dull… especially not with the new heir breathing down their necks."
Robert winced. He was already talking about the company, about him. David Richard wasn't just a roommate; he was a key part of the world Robert needed to conquer. He was confident, perceptive, and handsome in a distracting, unsettling way.
That night, Robert laid awake, listening to David's movements next door. The sound of his shower running, his electric razor buzzing, and the rhythmic clicking of his keyboard—all ordinary sounds that amplified the terrifying reality of her deception.
The dormitory was supposed to be her escape, but it had instantly become the most intimate, and therefore the most dangerous, place in the world.