Chapter 5 - A DANGEROUS DINNER
Emma forced her muscles to relax, taking a slow, steady breath as she stepped between William and the couch.
“I... I was just startled,” Emma said, her voice remarkably stable despite the terror screaming inside her chest. “I didn't hear you walk up the path.”
William didn't move. His gaze lingered on her face, then slowly swept across the small living room, landing briefly on the slightly askew sofa cushion where the dictaphone was hidden.
“Toby told me you were making herbal tea for Lily,” William said, holding out the jar of honey. “Our rooftop hives produce the best clover yield in the county.”
“Thank you,” Emma said, reaching out to take the jar. Her fingers briefly brushed against his cold skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her arm.
William didn't let go of the jar immediately. He held it, his blue eyes searching her face with dangerous intensity.
“You’re a terrible liar, Emma,” he said softly.
Emma’s heart slammed against her ribs like a sledgehammer. “Excuse me?”
“Your shoulders go rigid when you’re hiding something,” William said, his voice dangerously smooth. “You did it at the restaurant when I asked about your background. You did it in the music room this afternoon.”
He released the jar, letting her take it, and crossed his arms over his trench coat.
“What were you doing in the guest house archives, Emma?” he asked calmly.
Emma gripped the jar of honey, her mind racing at light speed. If she revealed what she knew now, he could have her thrown off the property, destroyed legally, or worse. She was inside his fortress, completely surrounded by his security guards.
“I found a photo album,” Emma lied smoothly, looking him straight in the eye. “Toby wanted to see pictures of his mother when she was young. I didn't know if it was okay to show him.”
William went completely still. The suspicion in his posture shifted, replaced by that dark, suffocating grief that seemed to follow him like a shadow.
“Don't show him,” William said, his tone dropping an octave. “Not yet.”
“Why?” Emma asked, pushing the boundary just a fraction. “He misses her, William. He thinks you’re trying to erase her memory.”
William closed his eyes for a long, painful three seconds. When he opened them, the cold corporate titan was gone, leaving behind a man who looked utterly hollowed out.
“Because he thinks she was perfect,” William whispered, his voice rough. “And if he knows the truth about how she died... it will destroy what little peace he has left.”
Emma blinked, confused. The truth about how she died?
Before she could process his words, William pulled a heavy black envelope from his coat pocket and set it on the entry table.
“Tomorrow night is the annual Hayes Horizon Gala at the Seattle Art Museum,” William said, returning to his cold, professional tone. “Arthur Vance and the entire board will be there. I want you to attend.”
Emma stared at the envelope. “Attending a gala isn't in my contract.”
“Toby refuses to go unless you’re there,” William said. “And I need my son by my side tomorrow night. The board needs to see stability before the SEC merger vote on Friday.”
He turned toward the open door, stepping out into the rain.
“A dress has already been delivered to your wardrobe,” William added over his shoulder. “Be ready at seven.”
As his black umbrella opened into the night, Emma walked back to the couch and pulled out the silver dictaphone.
May you like
She looked at the small recording device, then at the black invitation on the table.
Tomorrow night, Arthur Vance—the man who had ordered the destruction of Elizabeth’s plane—would be in the same room as William Hayes, Toby, and the woman holding the evidence that could tear their billion-dollar empire to dust.
