Chapter 26: Out Of Place

Morgan led Isobel and Stacey toward the elevator.

Behind them, the cafeteria remained deathly silent.

The laughter that had filled the room moments ago had vanished without a trace.

Dozens of employees sat frozen in their seats, their faces pale and grim as they watched the group leave. No one dared to speak. No one dared to meet another person’s eyes for too long.

Only now did they realize how badly they had misjudged the situation.

The woman they had mocked was not some insignificant employee.

She was someone important enough for the company’s elusive big boss to personally step in and defend.

A cold sense of dread settled over the room.

"We’re not doomed, right?"

The woman who had started the rumor about Isobel’s supposed one-night stand leaned toward her colleague and whispered nervously. The food on her tray suddenly looked impossible to swallow.

Both women were from the marketing department.

"Relax."

Her companion forced a confident smile, though it looked far less convincing than before.

"There are dozens of people here. The boss can’t punish everyone."

"But what if he investigates?" the first woman pressed, her voice trembling. "What if he finds out we’re the ones who started the gossip?"

The other woman’s expression stiffened.

For a brief moment, uncertainty flashed across her eyes.

Then she quickly masked it.

"You’re overthinking it," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "He’s a busy man. He probably won’t even remember this tomorrow."

Her words sounded reassuring.

Unfortunately, neither of them noticed the HR manager standing near the cafeteria entrance.

Holding a tablet.

Watching them.

And recording every word.

...

Morgan led Isobel and Stacey across the street from Aioryx Tower to an upscale Mediterranean restaurant nestled between two luxury boutiques.

The moment they stepped inside, Isobel understood why employees rarely dined there.

The restaurant exuded understated luxury. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm golden glow over polished marble floors. The air carried the rich aroma of roasted lamb, olive oil, fresh herbs, and baked bread. Through floor-to-ceiling windows, the sunlight reflected off elegant wine displays.

A tall, slender woman immediately approached Morgan.

Her Mediterranean-inspired attire lent her an effortless elegance. A flowing ivory blouse draped softly over her shoulders, embroidered with intricate blue and gold patterns along the neckline and cuffs. A fitted terracotta bodice hugged her waist, while a long skirt flowed gracefully around her ankles with every step.

Even her smile looked expensive.

One glance was enough for Isobel to realize that a single meal here probably cost an average employee’s one month salary.

"Welcome back, Mr. Morgan."

The waitress greeted him with a bright smile.

"We’ve prepared your usual private room. Shall we arrange your regular order as well, sir?"

Morgan gave a slight nod.

The waitress acknowledged Stacey with a familiar smile before her gaze drifted to Isobel.

Her eyes lingered for a fraction longer. Curiosity flickered there. Clearly, she was wondering who the unfamiliar woman accompanying Morgan was.

The waitress guided them toward an exclusive dining area separated from the main restaurant by elegant glass walls.

Just as she pulled the glass door open—

"Morgan."

"Morgan."

Two female voices rang out simultaneously.

Every head at the nearby tables subtly turned.

At opposite ends of the restaurant, Katherine and Claire had both risen from their seats.

And both were now walking toward Morgan in graceful strides.

Neither woman hurried. Yet somehow both moved with the unmistakable determination of someone racing toward a finish line.

The waitress wisely stepped aside.

Katherine arrived first by half a step.

"Morgan."

Her voice was sweet enough to melt honey.

"We’ve already ordered, but our food hasn’t arrived yet. Would you mind if Claire and I joined you?"

Before Morgan could answer, Katherine’s gaze slid toward Isobel.

A thoughtful smile appeared on her lips.

"It would be good for Isobel to spend time with Aioryx employees. It might help her feel more comfortable around everyone."

Morgan knew exactly what Katherine was doing.

After a brief pause, he nodded.

"Alright."

A victorious smile briefly flashed through Katherine’s eyes.

Morgan then looked toward a table where the two ladies came from.

Fennick was seated alone there. With a simple gesture, Morgan beckoned him over.

Fennick immediately stood. As he approached, his gaze landed on Isobel’s face. And remained there a little longer than necessary.

Soon everyone settled into their seats. As expected, Katherine and Claire claimed the seats beside Morgan.

That left Isobel sitting between Stacey and Fennick.

The moment the menu was placed before her, Isobel’s confidence disappeared.

The names meant almost nothing to her.

Moussaka. Dolma. Shakshuka. Kofta. Everything sounded foreign.

When she was ith Kristoff, they never went out to eat and always eat at the villa.

She slowly turned the pages while trying not to look completely lost.

Unfortunately, both Morgan and Fennick noticed.

Eventually, Isobel quietly placed the menu back on the table.

"Isobel, haven’t you chosen yet?"

Claire’s voice was warm but the smile on her face never reached her eyes. ℴℴ𝘮

"I’ll just order whatever Stacey orders."

Katherine let out a soft laugh.

"What Stacey likes may not suit your taste."

She pointed toward the menu.

"The Greek salad here is excellent. You should try it."

"And the hummus," Claire added immediately.

"The tzatziki is wonderful too."

The two women sounded helpful. Yet somehow every suggestion only made Isobel feel more self-conscious.

Morgan’s brows furrowed. He could sense her discomfort. Before he could intervene, Fennick spoke first.

"The lamb kebab is their signature dish. The moussaka is good too."

His tone was straightforward. Without hidden meanings. Without subtle mockery. Just genuine advice.

Relieved, Isobel nodded.

"Then I’ll have those."

Fennick signaled a waiter and placed both his and Isobel’s orders.

When the food arrived, Isobel became even more cautious.

Every movement was measured. Every bite carefully taken.

She was painfully aware of where she was and who surrounded her.

Meanwhile, Katherine and Claire chatted comfortably with Morgan as though they had been doing so for years.

They laughed. Shared stories. Offered opinions. Completely at ease.

By comparison, Isobel felt like an outsider peeking through a window.

"How’s the kebab?"

Fennick suddenly asked. Trying to include her.

"It’s good." Isobel offered a small smile. "The salad is great too."

After that, she returned to speaking quietly with Stacey about trivial things. Anything to avoid drawing attention.

Across the table, Morgan watched her for several seconds.

His expression darkened. Then he finally spoke.

"Isobel."

She looked up.

"You can relax."

His tone was casual.

"You don’t look this stiff when you’re eating at home."

Clang!

Fennick’s spoon slipped from his fingers and struck the plate.

Across from him, Claire nearly dropped hers as well. The entire table went silent.

At home?

Their eyes slowly shifted toward Isobel. Then toward Morgan. Then back toward Isobel.

A dangerous realization began forming in their minds.

Was she... living with him?

Only Katherine remained composed.

She calmly took a sip of wine before setting down her glass.

"You’re misunderstanding."

She smiled lightly.

"Isobel is the wet nurse for my sister’s babies."

The tension eased.

But only slightly.

Because none of them missed the fact that Katherine had answered the question.

Not Morgan.