Chapter 3 - The Three-Month Nightmare
Preston set Lucia down gently on his leather sofa. He knelt in front of her, making sure he was perfectly eye-level.
“Lucia,” Preston asked, his voice a low, gentle rumble. “How long has she been talking to your mom like that?”
Lucia looked at him nervously, then held up three small fingers.
“Three days?” Preston asked, hoping it was a recent development.
She shook her head.
“Three weeks?”
She shook it again, clutching her stuffed rabbit tighter.
A nasty, apocalyptic chill crept over his broad shoulders.
“Three months?” Preston whispered.
The little girl nodded silently.
Three months. Three months of psychological torture under his own roof. Three months in which he had mistaken Rosa’s terrified trembling for natural shyness, and Lucia’s traumatic silence for good manners. While he was busy running his corporate empire, the woman he planned to marry had turned his home into a hostage situation.
Preston stood up. The charming, sophisticated CEO completely evaporated. The ruthless, calculating executioner took his place.
He pulled his phone from his suit jacket and dialed Warren Cole, his former military-intelligence head of security.
May you like
“Warren,” Preston commanded, his voice devoid of any human warmth. “Pull the digital access logs, the interior cameras, phone records, offshore transfers, temp staff files, and absolutely anything connected to Vanessa Pierce for the past four months. She cannot know you are looking.”
👉 Preston had to play the role of the loving fiancé for exactly three more hours, completely unaware of the massive financial bomb his security chief was about to unearth.
