All Chapters of Rise Of The Betrayed Omega : Chapter 271 - Chapter 280

**Stella's POV** "Good morning to you too, Barbara—" "No. I don't need your greetings." She holds up a finger. "You haven't reported to work in over one month and now this—" her voice drops to something scandalized "—What is going on?" "You'll find out soon enough—" "Find out soon enough?" She stares at me. "Stella. You have been gone for a month. A whole month. No calls, no emails, nothing. Half this office thought you'd been fired. The other half thought you quit. Senior HR was about to process your exit paperwork. What are you doing here?" Process my exit?! My heart stutters as I didn't expect to hear her say such a thing to my face. "You will know in due time," I say, as gently as I can. "All of you will know very soon. I promise." I squeeze her arm once. "Now excuse me, I'm running late." She opens her mouth to say something but I leave her standing there with more questions than she pulled me to the side with. --- I'm almost at the elevator when another voice c

**Shawn's POV** Abigail's scent hits me first. I don't place it immediately — just register it, the way you register something familiar in an unfamiliar context, I know I have encountered it before, recently, and my brain is already turning it over, running it back, before she's even crossed the room to Stella's father. Then she wraps her arms around Victor and laughs, and it clicks. We met at the bar when I was too drunk to drive myself back home a month ago. I keep my face where it is. She doesn't look at me right away — she's holding Victor's face in her hands, asking him how he is, and there's nothing performed about it, no audience awareness, just genuine relief at seeing someone she loves. It is, objectively, a difficult thing to look away from. I look away from it. When she does turn to me, Victor is already speaking. "This is Shawn Black." A pause that he leaves just long enough to become intentional. "The single guy I mentioned." The single what? My heart

**Stella's POV** I should say something but the silence has stretched long enough that staying in it has become its own kind of answer, and I know it, and Shawn knows it, and the knowing sits between us in this small room like a third presence neither of us has acknowledged. My hands are clasped in front of me. I pressed them together somewhere in the last thirty seconds without noticing — knuckles pale, grip tighter than it needs to be. "It's complicated," I say. The two most cowardly words in the English language and I have just handed them to him like they constitute a response. Shawn doesn't blink or offer me any of the small social mercies that would let me pretend I've said something sufficient. He just looks at me with those steady, unhurried eyes and waits — the way he always waits — like time is something he has in abundance and is perfectly content to spend right here. "You work for my father." My voice has dropped without permission. I hear it happen and can't stop it

**Shawn's POV** Abigail is still talking. I register the words — something about her father and victor finally getting what they wanted, something light and self-aware that makes Victor's eyes crinkle at the corners — but the words are arriving from a slight distance because the hand on my forearm has rearranged my attention completely. It is a nothing touch. I know it is a nothing touch. Abigail doesn't even glance at it — her eyes are on her uncle, her expression still carrying the tail end of laughter, entirely unbothered by the fact that her hand is sitting on my arm with the casual ease of someone who has already decided we are comfortable with each other. We have agreed to one dinner so why the act? I take a quiet breath through my nose and keep my face where it is. The problem is not Abigail. Abigail is warm and direct and entirely without malice. The problem is that I am standing in this office with the specific, indelible memory of Stella's hands in my jacket lapels and

**Stella's POV** (Meanwhile in Stella's office...) As soon as the door closes behind my father and Shawn, I count to three with my eyes closed and then open them to glare at Ezekiel. He is now standing near the window, one hand in his pocket, wearing the expression of a man who has just rolled dice and is waiting to see where they land. The morning light catches the clean line of his jaw and he looks — infuriatingly — like he has just done something reasonable. How dare he ask me out again in front of my Dad?! Every single thing I have been holding together since this morning shifts dangerously close to the surface.... He can't help me find my daughter but wants me to date him!? I scoff inwardly, "That was a strategy, wasn't it?" His brows lift slightly. "Excuse me?" "Asking me out." I keep my voice even, each word placed with the care of someone who knows exactly how much force they are carrying. "In front of my father." I tilt my head, just slightly. "You weren't bei