It was a sinner's suicide for anyone to work at Coopers Incorporation. It was no surprise that people aimed to stray far from the Devil known as Mr Elijah Cooper.
Cold, demanding, and rough, he ruled over everything with an iron grip and a calculati...
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Nora's P.O.V
Ben’s name had lingered in my mind for a while—Jones, like mine. I had my doubts, but I never gave them much weight. Elian had assured me he was nothing more than an acquaintance, someone with no connection to me.
And yet, standing here now, unease twisted in my gut.
He slowly pulled down his hoodie, revealing a mess of white hair. Still the same here, a strange choice. It didn’t suit him, not with the sharp lines of his face. He looked unnatural—like he was hiding something beneath the color.
"White hair doesnt suit you much" I muttered before I could stop myself. "Not exactly subtle either."
Ben smirked. "Wouldn’t want to blend in, would I?"
His gaze flickered over me, as if he was waiting for something—some kind of recognition. But I gave him nothing.
"You really don’t know, do you?" he mused.
Something about the way he said it sent a chill down my spine. My fingers curled into fists. "Know what?"
He chuckled, slow and deliberate. "You’re more clueless than I thought."
My pulse quickened. I wasn’t sure if it was anger or fear, but something about him unsettled me. Then, as he shifted, I noticed something peeking from beneath the sleeve of his jacket—a mark on the side of his wrist.
A birthmark.
My breath caught.
For a split second, my mind flashed back to my father. He had the same mark, right in that spot. I remembered seeing it when I was younger, tracing the oddly shaped patch of skin with my fingers, asking him why it was there.
It wasn’t proof of anything. It could be a coincidence.
But suddenly, the surname, the secrecy, the way he was looking at me—it all felt too much.
I took a step back. "What are you trying to say?"
Ben rolled his shoulders, like this conversation bored him. "Figured you’d be smarter than this, considering who your father was."
A sharp breath left my lips. "What?"
He smirked. "Come on, Nora. You think I’m here by accident? That I just happen to share your last name?"
No. No, this didn’t make sense.
His lips curl into a humorless smile. "Don’t get your hopes up. We’re not siblings," he says flatly. "We’re cousins. But don’t think that means anything—I won’t hesitate to kill you."
The words barely register. Cousins? My stomach tightens. I never knew I had a cousin. As far as I was aware, Uncle Steven had only one child—a daughter who died in a car accident years ago. He never had a son.
