Infiltration

Chapter 11 – Cossette POV 

It was exactly 8:02 a.m.

The sky was washed in that soft, stubborn morning blue—the kind that promises a fresh start and a fight in the same breath. Across the street, Eat & Like's famous headquarters loomed like a smug villain in a tailored suit: twenty floors of polished steel and ruthless ambition. Its glass walls shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting the city like it owned it.

I hated how pretty it looked.

Betha stood next to me, arms crossed, her brows drawn low. "You do realize you're supposed to be at work at 10 am ?"

I adjusted the hood of my oversized sweatshirt, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Technically, yes , and i will be in time . But even late I think its forgivable when you're the brand new CEO."

Her eyes narrowed. "And you think this is a smart way to make your entrance?"

"Its smart enough for me ! "

Betha groaned, her gaze flicking back to the building. "Remind me of the plan again. Because the guards do know your face, Cossette. They're not going to let you walk in."

I didn't answer right away. Instead, I popped open the trunk of my car and pulled out the ridiculous, overstuffed item I had prepared the night before. A soft, pastel maternity pillow. Still smelled faintly of lavender and fabric softener.

I held it out to her with both hands, like a gift. "congratulation betha . You're pregnant."

She blinked at it. Then at me. "Excuse me what?"

"You're having a baby," I said slowly, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. "And you will be in labor, in like .. three minutes."

Betha recoiled. "No. Absolutely not. I'm not waddling into enemy territory pretending to go into labor. That's insane, even for you."

I leaned on the edge of the trunk, arms folded. "Look, you distract the guards, I slip in unnoticed. I just need to get to the 15th floor. You know what's up there."

"Ray Lether's kingdom of chaos," she muttered under her breath.

I nodded. "Exactly. And I need access. Today."

She picked up the pillow like it might explode. "What if they call an ambulance? Or security? Or both?"

"Then you run," I said simply. "Very slowly. In dramatic fake-labor fashion."

Betha stared at me for a long second, then jammed the pillow under her sweater with the resigned grace of someone who knew they'd lost the argument the moment they showed up. "I swear, if I go viral for this…"

"You won't," I said. "Probably."

We crossed the street slowly. I kept my head down, cap low, hood tight. Heart thudding, but steady. I couldn't afford mistakes.

As we approached the entrance, Betha adjusted her gait. One foot forward, one hand on her back. Classic third-trimester waddle. The performance was already Oscar-worthy.

Then—suddenly—she clutched her belly.

"Help!" she cried, her voice sharp and panicked. "Please! I need help!"

The two guards flinched, then bolted forward like someone had hit an alarm.

"Miss, are you okay?" one asked, fumbling with his radio.

Betha let out a moan that could have cracked windows. "I think—oh my God—I think my water just broke!"

I slipped past them, barely a whisper of movement, sliding into the revolving door and catching a glimpse of her doubling over for dramatic effect.

"He's coming!" she screamed behind me. "I can't—AHHHH!"

By now, the guards were in full chaos mode—shouting into radios, waving down staff, one of them actually pacing in circles like a sitcom dad-to-be.

I didn't look back.

The lobby was quiet, the echo of distant footsteps swallowed by soft jazz and the artificial calm of corporate design. I found the elevator, jabbed the button, and waited, heart ticking louder than I liked.

Ding.

As the doors opened, I stepped in, hit Floor 15, and exhaled—finally—when the metallic doors slid shut behind me.

Whatever waited upstairs... I was ready.

Mission: Infiltrate Ray Lether's office—in progress.