Chapter 5

Anna's Pov

"Anna, you need to see this." My secretary, Emily, called my attention to something on her tablet.

Emily, now more than just a secretary, had become my right hand, managing day-to-day operations. She handed me a glossy brochure from a rival fashion house in town.

"The designs look eerily similar to my blueprint, Emily. This cannot be a mere coincidence," I exclaimed, my thoughts rapidly going in circles. Anxiety began to eat me up, and a cold sweat started to form on my brow.

"That's what I thought. Are you going to sue them?" she asked with concern, her eyes mirroring the worry I felt.

"We can't just sue them; we need proof. Someone from the design department might have leaked it," I responded, frustration creeping into my voice as I got up from my chair.

I glanced at the time. It was a few minutes before I needed to pick up Owen from school. Before I could finish thinking about it, two tiny legs jumped through the door with a wonderful smile on his face.

"Mummy!" he yelled, dashing into my arms. His joy was infectious, momentarily lifting the heavy weight on my chest.

"My little treasure, how was school today, hun?" I asked, pecking his chubby cheeks, my heart swelling with love and relief.

The life I suffered so much to bring into this world was three years old now. Seeing him bounce around with that smile and face that is a copy of Landen's brought me so much joy.

"Uncle Navian came to pick me up today," Owen said.

I looked up to see Navian in a well-tailored suit. He's as tall and fine as the young man I had seen that night. I owe him everything I am today.

"Hey, Anna!" His calm, soothing voice stilled my office. "It's time to go home now. When were you planning to pick up the young man?"

He said, advancing towards us. "There was a little delay in my meeting earlier, sorry. And I knew his uncle would go pick him up if he didn't get a call from him," I responded, handing my bag to Emily, who nodded a greeting to Navian.

"Thank you," I said to Navian.

"My driver is waiting. Let's go. There's a celebration in the packhouse tonight. You have to be there," he said, turning to lead us to his car.

"Well, I don't have any outfits for such events, and you know me; I'm not interested in such gatherings of rich and young people," I said, sliding through the other back door of the car.

Navian chuckled as he buckled Owen into his car seat. "You can't keep hiding, Anna. Besides, you own a fashion brand. I'm sure you can find something to wear."

I sighed, knowing he was right. "Fine. But just for a little while."

As we drove, I couldn't stop thinking about the brochure. Who could have betrayed me? I had trusted my team implicitly. Realizing the betrayal in my company made my inside burn, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Owen talked excitedly about his school day throughout the car trip home. His innocence stood in sharp contrast to the internal conflict I was experiencing. Navian glanced at me occasionally, sensing my distraction but respecting my silence.

When we arrived home, Navian gently touched my shoulder. "We'll figure it out, Anna. You're not alone in this."

I nodded, appreciating his support. "Thank you, Navian. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"What do you mean? I’m sure you can do way more without me," he said, giving me a reassuring smile before heading inside with Owen.

Later that evening, as I got ready for the pack house celebration, I couldn't shake off the unease. Emily had stayed back at the office to try and find out who might have leaked our designs. I trusted her, but I knew this betrayal ran deeper than just a design theft. It felt personal.

The celebration at the packhouse was a grand affair. Navian introduced me to several influential members of the community, and despite my initial reluctance, I found myself enjoying the evening. Owen was a hit, charming everyone with his bright smile and boundless energy.

As the night progressed, I caught sight of a familiar face. It was Miles Thompson, my business friend, who had helped me during the grand opening crisis. He was talking to a group of people, laughing and enjoying himself. A pang of doubt hit me. Could he be involved in the design leak?

I decided to approach him. "Miles, I didn't expect to see you here."

He turned, his smile broadening. "Anna! It's great to see you. How's everything going?"

"Busy, as always," I replied, trying to gauge his reaction. His relaxed demeanor and friendly smile did little to ease my suspicions.

“You launched a new project last week, how is it going?” I asked, trying to look for a little shift in his body language to me.

“Your son seems to be having trouble breathing, Miss Annabeth,” one of Navian’s maids rushed in to tell me.

I didn’t understand. Having trouble breathing? What kind of thing is that? In a blink of an eye, I was holding my son.

Owen was wheezing, his face swelling up, and his skin turning red. Panic surged through me, making my hands shake.

“Owen! Owen!” I yelled, my voice cracking with fear.

“What is wrong with you? Someone call Navian, please,” I yelled at the maid standing nearby.

The moment felt like I was choking. Whatever it was, I wanted it to be happening to me, not my dear son. The terror of potentially losing him was more than I could bear.

My eyes brimmed with hot tears as I could only sit and watch my son gasping for breath more and more. Every second seemed like minutes, and the atmosphere was heavy with anxiety and fear.

Navian burst into the room, looking so worried, I could see the coins of sweat on his forehead. He immediately took charge, examining Owen with the practiced efficiency of a doctor.