Chapter 1 - THE NAME SHE THOUGHT WAS BURIED
“Don't call me that,” Vivien whispered.
The stranger leaned across the table.
“Then stop pretending Samantha Bell died nine years ago.”
My fingers tightened around the silver water pitcher.
Samantha Bell.
I knew that name.
I had seen it in my father's old financial records, written beside transactions that federal investigators claimed had destroyed his hedge fund.
But the last time I searched for Samantha Bell, she had disappeared from every professional database I could access.
Now she was sitting six feet away from me, wearing a white designer suit and an engagement ring worth more than my mother's medical bills for five years.
“What do you want, Calvin?” Vivien demanded.
The stranger smiled.
“Two million dollars.”
“You've lost your mind.”
“Perhaps. But your fiancé might be interested in the circumstances surrounding Michael Jenkins's death.”
My heart nearly stopped.
Michael Jenkins.
My father.
For nine years, I had tried to understand why a man who spent his life teaching me the importance of honesty had been publicly accused of stealing millions.
Federal investigators had suspected him of authorizing fraudulent transfers before his hedge fund collapsed.
Dad maintained his innocence until his death.
But the investigation and relentless publicity destroyed his reputation, his business, and eventually his will to keep fighting.
My mother never recovered from losing him.
Now the woman who had terrorized half the employees at the Winslow was trembling at the mention of his name.
I stepped closer.
“More water, Miss Croft?”
Vivien looked up sharply.
“Can't you see we're having a private conversation?”
“Of course.”
I reached for her glass.
Then I leaned close enough that only she could hear me.
“My name is Harper Jenkins.”
Her expression changed instantly.
I continued quietly.
“Michael Jenkins was my father. And I know who Samantha Bell is.”
The color drained from her face.
Calvin slowly turned toward me.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Then Vivien whispered, “You need to leave this table.”
“Certainly.”
I straightened.
“But I don't think you want me to leave this building.”
Her fingers tightened around her champagne glass.
“Are you threatening me?”
“No. I'm giving you the opportunity to behave like someone who understands that other people have lives worth protecting.”
Calvin suddenly laughed.
“Michael's daughter. Well, this evening just became interesting.”
Vivien shot him a murderous look.
Before either could say another word, Nathaniel appeared at the edge of the table.
“Is everything all right?”
Vivien immediately changed.
Her shoulders relaxed, and her familiar polished smile returned.
“Of course, darling.”
She gestured dismissively toward Calvin.
“This gentleman was just leaving.”
Calvin stood.
But before stepping away, he slipped a folded piece of paper beneath Vivien's dessert plate.
Then he looked directly at me.
“Your father was a remarkable man, Miss Jenkins.”
My throat tightened.
“You knew him?”
“Better than you might think.”
He walked away before I could ask another question.
Nathaniel settled into his chair.
Vivien immediately reached for his hand, but I noticed something she probably thought she had concealed.
Her other hand was trembling beneath the table.
I finished pouring the water and returned to the service station.
Charles approached immediately.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Harper, that woman has already complained about the temperature of the butter. Please don't give her another reason to destroy my evening.”
I nodded.
But I wasn't listening anymore.
Vivien had unfolded Calvin's note.
From where I stood, I could read only the final sentence.
It was enough.
Bring the original ledger by midnight, or Nathaniel learns what really happened to Michael Jenkins.
And beneath it was a handwritten number.
May you like
$68,400,000.
The exact amount investigators claimed my father had stolen.
