Chapter 20 - unanswered calls
I sat on the wooden deck for hours as the afternoon sun slowly sank toward the horizon, painting the sea sky in long, dramatic streaks of violet and burnt orange. The parchment paper rested on the wicker table beside my untouched coffee, the black-and-white photograph facing up toward the fading light.
Leo woke up at four o'clock, letting out a bright, energetic babble as he kicked his small legs under his blanket. I lifted him into my arms, pressing my face against his soft, warm neck, breathing in his sweet scent of baby powder and sea air.
He was healthy. He was safe. But looking down at the photograph of my father standing beside Eleanor Vane, I realized the terrifying truth: my marriage to Julian hadn't been an accident. My pregnancy hadn't been a surprise. I hadn't been chosen by Julian because he loved me—I had been selected before I was even born as part of a legacy that reached far beyond Eleanor Vane’s seventy-million-dollar trust.
My phone rang on the wicker table. The screen displayed an unlisted international number from Switzerland.
I picked up the phone, pressing it to my ear without speaking.
Through the static wire, a woman's voice—smooth, soft, and cultured, sounding chillingly similar to Eleanor Vane—spoke three simple words into the quiet sea wind:
"Is Leo ready?"
I didn't answer. I slammed the phone down onto the table, pulling Leo tightly against my chest as I stood up and backed away toward the cottage door.
May you like
At the edge of the quiet gravel driveway fifty yards away, standing near the shadow of the tall pine trees, a black luxury sedan was parked with its engine idling silently in the twilight rain.
I backed inside the cottage, locking the heavy iron bolt behind us, leaving the phone ringing endlessly on the empty deck outside as the sea fog rolled in to swallow the coast.
