SEVEN | THE SAD REALITY

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**A/N: If you read the original version of this story, this is around when you'll start to notice some bigger differences to the plot! Per usual, please vote, comment, and/or save this story to your reading lists to support! It really motivates me & just makes me so happy! :)

Home.

Where on earth did he mean by that?

Felicity was well aware that she had lied to him about where she lived, but she had no clue how he would've known that. Did he figure out where she actually lived? Was he taking her there right now? Or was he going to bring her with him to his house?

Felicity's spiraling thoughts resulted in her imagining Mr. Belmonte's home. She was sure it was huge. She wouldn't be surprised if he lived in a fancy penthouse, or even a mansion somewhere outside the city. He was obviously loaded, so she couldn't fathom why he wouldn't live somewhere grandiose.

She tried to picture all of the expensive furniture and decor that likely occupied his place, and she wondered if now was going to be her opportunity to see it all.

The thought of her attractive, and much older, boss taking her home with him gave her butterflies. A wave of nerves rushed throughout her body as she considered the possibility, but she felt a little bit of excitement in it too. Potentially even a slither of hope that his place was indeed where they were headed?

She had already been alone with Mr. Belmonte many times now, but she wondered what it would be like to be alone with him in such an intimate setting.

But when Mr. Belmonte's car finally halted to a stop, Felicity's fantasy was soon squandered. She sank down shamefully into her seat, wishing she could turn herself invisible.

Because Mr. Belmonte had pulled up directly in front of her apartment.

Her real apartment.

"Where are we? Why did you take me here?" Felicity asked through a shaky voice. The situation she had currently found herself in was causing her distress beyond comprehension.

"I know this is where you really live, Felicity," Mr. Belmonte said softly, trying to speak with as much compassion and empathy as he could find within himself. He felt bad for embarrassing her, and guilty for intruding on her life, but he needed to show her somehow that he wasn't judging her. He tried his best to avoid using the word "home" because he could tell by just looking at the dumpy apartment that it was no home, or even a slight resemblance of one.

Felicity considered protesting, but she didn't have it in her at this point to keep up with the charade. There was no use anymore. He knew. He was smart enough to figure it out on his own, and she was smart enough to know that she wasn't going to convince him otherwise.

So instead, she allowed her silence to confirm his discovery.

"Why didn't you tell me where you actually lived when I dropped you off?" he asked.

Felicity instantly glanced over at him with an "are you kidding me?" expression before stepping outside of her usual character, "Are you actually being serious right now? It's embarrassing! I'm ashamed that this is where I come from, especially being around someone as wealthy as you."

"You shouldn't be embarrassed or ashamed," he said after taking a moment to think about what she had said, "Where you live doesn't change a thing about the Felicity Hayes I've come to know. But I guess if it were to, it would just make you an even more impressive, resilient individual to me."

Felicity looked down at her feet. She appreciated his words, but he still wasn't supposed to find out—at least not like this. He did though. Why did they both keep finding out each other's secrets?

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