Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase

Chapter 614:

Maia studied his face intently, searching for cracks in his composed facade. “Mr. Cooper, what exactly does your boss do for a living?”

A gentle evening breeze wove through the city streets, threading its way like a whispered secret, teasing the leaves above. Streetlights spilled golden pools across the treetops, their glow fracturing into faint, dancing shadows on the pavement below.

Chris halted mid-step, a slow, easy grin spreading across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I’m just a driver, Maia. The ins and outs of my boss’s dealings? Honestly, I’m clueless.”

Maia tilted her head, her eyes glinting with skepticism under the lamplight. Her fingers twitched at her side, betraying her doubt. “Come on, Chris. You tag along on his business trips all the time. Last time, you took a bullet shielding him from that attack.”

Chris’ gaze drifted, settling on the swaying shadows of the trees lining the street. “Most days, the boss handles the client talks solo. I’m not in the room for those. My job is simple — drive, keep him safe. That mess last time? Pure bad luck. Some thug ambushed him, and I was just there.”

His voice stayed steady, smooth as the breeze, not a ripple of deceit to be found.

against a lamppost, arms crossed casually as he added, “Even with the

heart softening like

rebuild after Kolton dragged his name through the mud. A steady job, a legitimate one, couldn’t have come easy. It was likely for this reason that Chris cherished his current position so much — enough to

boss was the type who could be a crime lord or something similar —

connection alone made Maia almost certain that Chris’ boss was involved in

Lᴀτєѕτ chⲁρτєrs ιn g𝓪l𝗇ovєls.𝑎𝓂

for why Chris, despite his promotion, still didn’t know what his boss’s business entailed. The real workings of such illegal enterprises were usually a secret, known only to the inner circle. For an outsider, hidden behind layers of well-designed

worry deepened, coiling tight in her

stray lock of hair from her face, the breeze catching it as she spoke. “Chris, we need

framing her sharp features in a warm, fleeting glow. She looked almost fragile under the streetlights, a rare contrast

off guard. He straightened, his hands slipping

was light, but her fingers curled into her palm, nails biting into skin. “They could help with your headaches. Their schedules are packed, though. If you’re off on some business trip or