The Billionaire's Heir I Never Knew Was Mine

Zoey’s eyes dropped back to the paper.

After a long pause, finally she pushed her chair back and rose to her feet.

The movement was sudden enough to immediately draw everyone’s attention.

Benjamin straightened instinctively, as did the others.

Zoey looked directly at him, her expression composed once more, perfectly controlled.

"I will review this file later," she said. Her tone was calm. "I have another appointment to attend."

She made a small, subtle gesture toward her secretary, who stepped forward promptly to collect the document from the table.

For a brief moment, no one spoke.

Benjamin felt a flicker of surprise, quickly suppressed beneath his professionalism. "Yes, Mrs. Sterling," he replied.

Zoey picked up her tablet. And without looking at anyone in particular, she added, "Gentlemen, the meeting is concluded."

There was no room for discussion, only a clear, final decision. And just like that, she turned and walked toward the door and stepped out.

Zoey walked down the hallway, returning to her office. Her secretary followed closely behind her.

Her mind couldn’t stop thinking, ’When did Zachary and Sienna first meet? How serious is their relationship?’

The moment Zoey reached her office, she turned to her secretary.

"Give it to me..."

The secretary quickly handed over the file.

"Leave," Zoey added, already flipping it open.

"Yes, ma’am."

The door shut quietly, leaving Zoey alone in the spacious CEO’s office.

She moved to her chair and sat down, her posture straight as she placed the file neatly on the desk.

For a brief second, she stared at the name printed on the top page.

"Sienna Adams..."

Once again, Zoey scanned Sienna’s profile with sharp focus. Her brows drew together as she reread the same lines, as if expecting the words to change into a high-quality background: Education, work history, references, or family. But nothing changed. All the info was the same.

After a few more minutes, Zoey reached for her phone.

She didn’t hesitate when she dialed the number.

The line connected after only two rings.

"I need you to investigate someone," Zoey said immediately, her tone leaving no room for questions. "I’ll send the file to your email right away."

There was a brief pause on the other end before a man’s voice responded, calm and professional. "Sure. Any other instructions, ma’am?"

Zoey leaned back slightly in her chair, her gaze still fixed on the file in front of her.

"No. But I want you to investigate her family thoroughly. And I need the information by tomorrow at the latest."

Another short pause.

"Understand. I will try..."

"Don’t try," Zoey cut in smoothly. "Do it."

"...Consider it done, ma’am."

Zoey ended the call after giving a few more instructions.

She sat in silence. Then, slowly, a curious smile appeared on Zoey’s lips.

She picked up her phone again, her fingers scrolling through her contacts with ease until they stopped at Zachary’s name.

"Should I call him now?" she whispered, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "He’d probably be surprised to learn I’ve already found his lover... right!?"

...

Meanwhile, on the tenth floor, life moved on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Sienna Adams sat behind her desk, her posture straight and composed, her eyes fixed on the screen in front of her. To anyone passing by, she looked fully immersed in her work, focused, efficient, and entirely unbothered.

But inwardly, that was far from the truth.

Earlier, she had sent Zachary a message. A simple one. Just a brief question asking for clarification about the money he had transferred to her.

And yet...

He hadn’t replied until now.

For most people, that would mean nothing.

But for Sienna—whose imagination could turn a delayed reply into a full-blown emotional drama—it was dangerous territory.

So, in a rare moment of self-awareness, she decided to take preventive action.

She picked up her phone, pressed a few buttons, and switched it to silent mode.

"There," she muttered under her breath, placing the device face down at the corner of her desk. "Out of sight, out of stress."

For a while, it worked.

She buried herself in spreadsheets, reports, and emails, allowing numbers and deadlines to take over her mind. Slowly, her shoulders relaxed, her breathing evened out, and the restless thoughts began to fade into the background.

For a brief moment, she even forgot about Zachary and his suspiciously slow thumbs.

But peace, unfortunately, had a time limit.

As the day gradually leaned toward evening, her concentration began to slip. The numbers on her screen blurred, the sentences stopped making sense, and her thoughts—those persistent, uninvited guests—started knocking again.

Her gaze drifted, almost against her will, toward the corner of her desk.

Her phone lay there, silent and perfectly still, as if it had done nothing wrong.

Sienna swallowed.

"He must have replied by now... right?" she whispered softly, as though speaking too loudly might somehow ruin her chances.

She hesitated.

Then, slowly, she reached for the phone, as if she were about to open a letter that could bring either relief or complete disaster.

She tapped the screen. Nothing there. No new messages. No missed call.

For a second, her expression soured. But then, unexpectedly, a faint smile appeared on her lips.

"Of course he didn’t reply..."

Her smile remained, but it wasn’t a truly happy one. It was the kind of smile people gave when they were trying very hard not to feel disappointed.

"What were you expecting, girl?" she murmured, slipping her phone into her bag with forced calmness. "He is a busy man."

She nodded to herself, as if confirming her logic.

’He’s managing his family business,’ she continued inwardly, ’He probably doesn’t even have time to relax...let alone check his phone.’

That explanation sounded convincing enough.

She nodded again, satisfied. A perfect excuse. A perfectly acceptable conclusion.

And yet, her chest still felt tight.

Because the truth was, she didn’t need anything complicated. She only wanted a simple answer.

Her fingers twitched slightly at the thought.

’Stop it, Sienna! Stop thinking about it. Just accept it...’

Another thought immediately followed, completely unhelpful.

’Well... look at the bright side. Ten months’ salary could’ve been your emergency fund anyway. What if you got fired tomorrow?’

Sienna froze.