Chapter 2 - The Name She Buried
Willa had spent six years teaching herself how not to look afraid.
Tonight, every lesson deserted her.
The door to the private suite opened without warning.
Kendrick Ashford entered alone.
No guards.
No Barrett.
No lawyers or advisers.
Just the man whose family name had haunted Willa's nightmares since she was twenty-one years old.
He closed the door quietly behind him.
That frightened her more than if he had slammed it.
Willa rose from the velvet sofa.
"Mr. Ashford."
"Kendrick."
She stared at him.
He removed his suit jacket and laid it over the back of a chair.
"You called me sir downstairs. Everyone calls me Mr. Ashford when they're lying to me. Kendrick will make this conversation shorter."
Willa's pulse jumped.
"I wasn't lying."
"You told me your name was Willa Reed."
"It is."
"No."
He walked toward the windows.
Eighty-eight floors below them, Manhattan glittered like a kingdom made of diamonds.
"I had your employee file brought upstairs."
Willa's stomach tightened.
Kendrick continued without looking at her.
"Willa Reed appeared in New York six years ago. No high-school records. No childhood address. No credit before age twenty-one. No family. No photographs older than six years."
He turned.
"People don't simply begin existing at twenty-one."
Willa forced herself not to move.
"Some people have reasons for leaving their past behind."
"I'm sure they do."
"Then why ask?"
"Because my daughter spoke to you."
That answer struck harder than she expected.
Kendrick's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
"Penny hasn't willingly spoken to a stranger in three years."
Willa remembered the tiny hand clutching her uniform.
"I didn't make her."
"I know."
"And I didn't make your dog lie at my feet."
"I know that too."
His certainty surprised her.
Kendrick walked closer.
"Titan has bitten three men in his life."
Willa blinked.
"Only three?"
For the first time, something almost like amusement crossed his face.
"That's your response?"
"He's a mastiff. Three seems restrained."
The corner of Kendrick's mouth moved.
Then the moment vanished.
"Titan doesn't trust people."
"Neither do I."
"Yet he trusts you."
Willa looked away.
That had been bothering her since the ballroom.
There had been something familiar in Titan's amber eyes.
Something impossible.
Kendrick noticed.
"You recognized him."
"No."
Too fast.
His gaze sharpened.
"Willa."
She hated the way he said her name.
Calmly.
As though there were nowhere she could hide inside it.
"I've seen dogs before."
"Not that dog."
Willa remained silent.
Kendrick stepped closer.
"Tell me who you are."
"I serve champagne for twenty-four dollars an hour."
"That wasn't my question."
"It's the only answer you're getting."
The temperature of the room seemed to shift.
Other men probably trembled when Kendrick Ashford looked at them that way.
Willa had already lost a father, a mother, a brother, her home, her future and the girl she used to be.
Fear had very little left to threaten her with.
Kendrick studied her for several seconds.
Then he did something unexpected.
He backed away.
"Fine."
Willa frowned.
"Fine?"
"You don't want to tell me tonight."
"I don't want to tell you ever."
"We'll see."
Before she could answer, the door opened again.
A tiny figure stood in the hallway.
Penny.
Barefoot.
Her expensive white dress had been replaced by pink pajamas, and one hand rested on Titan's enormous head.
The mastiff walked directly past Kendrick.
Straight toward Willa.
"Oh, come on," Willa whispered.
Titan dropped onto the carpet beside her feet.
Penny followed.
Kendrick stared at his daughter.
"You should be asleep."
Penny said nothing.
Her eyes remained on Willa.
Kendrick crouched.
"Sweetheart."
Still nothing.
Penny reached for Willa's hand.
Willa froze.
Tiny fingers wrapped around hers.
The gesture sent an ache through Willa so suddenly that she almost pulled away.
She hadn't held a child's hand in years.
Not since—
No.
She refused to finish the thought.
Penny tugged.
"What does she want?" Willa asked.
Kendrick looked almost embarrassed.
"Apparently, you."
Willa swallowed.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that."
"Neither do I."
For a moment, the most feared man in New York looked less like a king and more like a father who had run out of answers.
Willa understood that kind of helplessness.
She lowered herself to Penny's height.
"Can't sleep?"
Penny shook her head.
"Bad dream?"
No response.
Willa hesitated.
Then Penny touched the silver chain beneath Willa's collar.
Willa's blood went cold.
A tiny silver key hung there.
She immediately tucked it beneath her uniform.
Penny's eyes widened.
Kendrick noticed.
"What is that?"
"Nothing."
"People don't hide nothing."
"It's mine."
Penny reached toward the necklace again.
Then, very softly, she whispered one word.
"Mommy."
The room stopped breathing.
Kendrick went completely still.
Willa felt every drop of blood leave her face.
Penny touched the place where the key had disappeared beneath Willa's collar.
"Mommy."
Kendrick stood.
"What did she say?"
Willa couldn't answer.
She knew exactly why Penny recognized the key.
Three years earlier, another woman had worn its twin.
A woman with honey-blonde hair, frightened eyes and a wedding ring worth more than Willa's entire apartment building.
Willa had known her as Celia Gray.
Only after Celia disappeared had Willa discovered her real name.
Celeste Ashford.
Kendrick's wife.
Penny's mother.
The woman who had died in a car crash forty-eight hours after placing that silver key in Willa's palm.
Willa stared at Penny.
The little girl remembered.
Impossible.
She had been only two.
Yet she remembered.
Kendrick's voice hardened.
"Where did you get that necklace?"
Willa backed away.
"I think I should leave."
"No."
"I don't belong here."
"You stopped being a waitress in my ballroom the second my daughter recognized something you were wearing."
"I didn't ask for any of this."
"Neither did I."
His words struck with unexpected force.
Titan suddenly lifted his head.
His ears angled toward the hallway.
A low growl formed.
Seconds later, Barrett appeared in the doorway.
His expression was pleasant.
Too pleasant.
"There you are, Kendrick."
Willa saw something change in Penny immediately.
The little girl's fingers tightened around hers.
Titan stood.
Barrett's gaze dropped to Willa's hand clasped with Penny's.
His smile faded.
"I was told the child wandered away from her nanny."
Penny moved behind Willa.
Kendrick noticed.
So did Willa.
Barrett stepped into the room.
"We should send the waitress home. This evening has created enough embarrassment."
Kendrick said nothing.
Barrett continued.
"I'll arrange compensation. Ten thousand dollars should be more than generous."
Willa laughed once.
She couldn't help it.
Barrett stared at her.
"Something amusing?"
"You think everybody has a price."
"Everybody does."
"No."
Barrett's smile returned.
"Then perhaps you simply haven't been offered yours yet."
Willa met his eyes.
Something inside her turned to ice.
Six years vanished.
She smelled gasoline.
Heard her mother screaming.
Saw orange flames climbing the windows of the Bennett house.
And remembered a man's voice outside the burning kitchen.
A voice she'd spent thousands of nights trying to forget.
Move the cars.
Leave no witnesses.
Willa's knees nearly buckled.
Barrett.
Older now.
More polished.
But the voice was the same.
She had heard him the night her family died.
Barrett had been there.
He was still talking.
"...and obviously she cannot remain anywhere near Penny."
Willa barely heard him.
Her fingernails dug into her palm.
Barrett turned toward her.
For one terrible second, their eyes met.
Did he recognize her?
Nothing showed.
But Willa knew men like Barrett survived because they noticed everything.
Kendrick's gaze shifted between them.
"What is it?"
Willa forced air into her lungs.
"Nothing."
Again, too fast.
Barrett's eyes narrowed.
Penny tugged Willa's hand.
Then the little girl whispered something so quietly only Willa heard it.
"Bad man."
Willa looked down.
Penny was staring directly at Barrett.
Kendrick heard enough to notice the movement of his daughter's lips.
"What did she say?"
Willa lifted her eyes.
Barrett was watching her now.
Waiting.
One sentence could change everything.
One sentence could probably get her killed before sunrise.
So Willa made the only choice six years of hiding had taught her to make.
She lied.
"She said she's tired."
Barrett relaxed.
Kendrick did not.
He looked at Willa for a long moment.
Then he took Penny's hand.
"I'll put her to bed."
Penny refused to release Willa.
Kendrick sighed.
"Willa can walk with us."
Barrett stepped forward.
"Kendrick—"
"Good night, Barrett."
The older man stopped.
The order was unmistakable.
Barrett smiled thinly.
"Of course."
As he turned away, his gaze fell once more upon Willa.
This time there was no uncertainty in it.
Only calculation.
Willa knew immediately that she had made a terrible mistake.
She had looked at him for half a second too long.
And men like Barrett never forgot a face that looked at them with hatred.
Minutes later, Willa walked down the silent corridor beside Penny and Kendrick.
Titan followed behind them.
At the nursery door, Penny finally released Willa's hand.
Before entering, she looked up.
"Willa?"
Her voice was barely more than a breath.
Kendrick froze again.
"Yes?" Willa whispered.
Penny touched her own heart.
Then she pointed toward Willa.
"Mommy trusted you."
Kendrick slowly turned his head.
Willa could no longer breathe.
Penny disappeared into the nursery.
The door closed.
For several seconds, neither adult moved.
Then Kendrick looked at Willa.
There was no indifference in his face now.
No boredom.
No distance.
Only a dangerous need for the truth.
"My wife knew you."
It wasn't a question.
Willa's hand closed around the silver key beneath her uniform.
Three years of silence had just ended.
And with five whispered words from a little girl, the secret Willa had protected with her life had finally found the one man she had hoped would never discover it.
"Yes," she said.
May you like
Kendrick's eyes darkened.
"Then we're going to have a very different conversation."
