New beginning: Billionaire love story

Chapter 433 Matthew Explanation

Claire strode into Cryptonic's sleek, glass-lined halls, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floors. She was expecting to see Matthew-or at least hear his familiar voice grumbling about work deadlines-but his office was eerily empty. The blinds were drawn, and

his usually cluttered desk sat untouched, with a thin layer of dust betraying his absence.

"Where is he?" she muttered under her breath, frowning.

Deciding not to jump to conclusions, Claire turned on her heel and headed to her own office. Once inside, she plopped into her chair and immediately dialed Sandra. The phone barely rang twice before Sandra's chipper voice answered. "Good afternoon, Ms. Peterson! How can I help you?"

"Sandra, is Matthew at Metacortex? I haven't seen him here," Claire asked, leaning back and fiddling with the pen on her desk.

Sandra paused, sounding slightly hesitant. "Matthew? Oh, no, he hasn't been at the office for a few days now."

Claire's brow furrowed deeper. "He hasn't? Why not?"

"He mentioned he wasn't feeling well and said he'd be working from home." Sandra's voice dropped, as if she wasn't entirely convinced herself.

"Sick?" Claire echoed, leaning forward. The idea sounded absurd. Matthew was the kind of person who'd jog five miles in the pouring rain and then show up to work like it was nothing. "Are you sure about that?"

"That's what he said," Sandra confirmed. "But honestly, I thought it was strange too. He has such a good record of showing up-this is the first time I've heard him say he's sick."

Claire drummed her fingers on the desk, her mind racing. "When was the last time he was at the office?"

Sandra took a moment to think. "Hmm... I believe it was after you went to Las Vegas. He came in once, but that was it. Afterward, he even canceled that meeting with the potential client."

Claire sighed heavily, raking her hand through her hair. "Got it. Thanks, Sandra. Let me know if you hear anything else."

her tone tinged

at her phone for a moment. Matthew sick? That didn't sit right with her. The guy was practically invincible, and the fact that he hadn't even told her about it gnawed at her. Was he hiding something? It certainly seemed out of character. As she absentmindedly scrolled through her messages, her eyes landed on a text from Winnie, sent nine hours ago: Are you available? Found

immediately replied: Come by tomorrow at

handled, she hesitated for only a second before dialing Matthew's number. It rang once before his familiar, cheerful

"Claire! What's up?"

flared. "What's up? Really, Matthew?" she snapped, trying to keep her

confused.

her lips into a thin line, her annoyance bubbling just beneath the surface. "Okay," she said curtly before abruptly

set his phone down and returned to studying the

of her office. "Driver!" she called as she descended the lobby stairs. Her

apartment," she ordered, sliding into

Something was definitely up with Matthew,

pulled up to

modern complex

windows and

garden. Claire stepped out, her heels clicking

ve

face was a mask of determination, and

a nod as

him and into the

she was practically fuming. Raising her

a few moments before the door creaked open. Matthew stood there, barefoot, wearing a rumpled t-shirt and sweatpants. But it wasn't his outfit that stopped Claire in her tracks-it was

bruise around his left eye, the faint cuts on his cheek and jaw. "What the hell happened to you?" she demanded, her tone sharp with concern. Matthew froze, clearly not expecting her. He hesitated, his hand gripping the edge of the door as if debating whether to close it. "Uh... nothing?" he tried, offering her an unconvincing smile. Claire's eyes narrowed. "Matthew. Don't you dare try to feed