His glare is angry, predatory, and with warnings attached. His possession is obvious and ominous presence disturbing. He appears every inch the mafia soldier he is.
He calls himself the family enforcer, and I am trying very hard not to picture what that involves.
The elevator arrives at one of the top floors, and as we exit, my feet sink into the plush pile of a navy-blue carpet. The walls are hung with framed certificates and the company logo; praising excellence, rewarding diligence, and admiring business acumen.
The air I’m breathing is rich; it’s as if only the elite belong in this space, and I’m grateful for the designer outfit Simeon chose for me. Clothes become armor when facing battle, and if I were dressed down, it would make me feel even more inferior.
We stop at a wooden door, polished so hard I can see my reflection, and a deep voice bids us to enter. The assistant opens the door and steps back, so we enter first, and my breath hitches when the man behind the desk stands and gazes at me with astonishment.
“Alice.”
He appears emotional, and I swallow the lump in my throat as I venture inside, noting the lines on the face of a man who has suffered great tragedy. My heart beats faster as I move toward him, and as he meets me halfway, he merely stares at me with incredulity.
“You are so like your mother.”
His husky whisper brings tears to my eyes, and he shakes his head.
“I would recognize you in a crowd.”
I’m surprised when he reaches out and whispers, “May I?”
I nod vigorously as he pulls me into his arms and holds me close, an emotional moment for us both as we meet for the first time.
“I thought I had lost you forever.”
He pulls away and shakes his head in astonishment.
“How did you get here? I heard you were missing, presumed dead.”
“Excuse me.”
The horror in my voice must be evident because he appears confused.
“I was told you were missing, that you had run away, and she understood you had been taken by a criminal gang who were known assassins, and she had every reason to believe they were hired to kill you.”
“Morgan?”
I possess so much hatred for that woman, and for the first time, Simeon speaks.
“When did she tell you that?”
Edward glances at Simeon, and resignation in his expression causes me to say firmly, “Simeon helped me, grandfather. He protected me when others tried to harm me.”
“I see.”
I can tell he doesn’t believe that, and with a sigh, he points to the couch in his office along with two easy chairs.
“I’ve arranged refreshments. Come, there is much to talk about.”
As I take the seat beside him, Simeon takes the one opposite and fixes his dark gaze on the only blood relative I have left other than my sisters.
“Morgan came to me last week and told me she received a ransom note from a criminal who apparently kidnapped you from the town near a convent you had reportedly fled to.”
“You knew about that?”
I’m starting to believe that my grandfather knew of me and chose not to find me, and that’s a hard fact to absorb.
“I did.”
