Chapter 2 - The Price of One Cruel Joke
Alex nearly missed a step.
“What did you just say?” he whispered.
Elena smiled for the cameras, her movements graceful and effortless.
“Keep dancing. Everyone is watching.”
He tightened his grip on her hand. “My father had nothing to do with your grandfather's death.”
“Interesting. I never said he killed him.”
Alex's expression changed.
Around them, wealthy guests watched the couple glide beneath the chandeliers. Vanessa stood beside a marble column, her face twisted with jealousy. She had expected Alex to spend the evening announcing their engagement. Instead, he was dancing with a woman whose wealth made his own family fortune look insignificant.
When the music ended, Elena released him.
“Thank you for the dance.”
She turned away.
Alex caught her wrist. “We need to talk privately.”
Elena looked down at his hand.
He released her immediately.
“Please,” he added, suddenly remembering his manners.
She studied him for a moment before nodding toward the terrace.
Outside, cold air swept across the gardens. Alex followed her past the stone balustrade, away from the guests and the cameras.
“My father has done business with your family for twenty years,” he said. “If you have some accusation, make it.”
Elena reached into her clutch and removed a small, sealed envelope.
“My grandfather died six months ago. The official report said his car lost control on a wet road.”
“I'm sorry for your loss.”
“He was an excellent driver. The brakes failed three times during the previous month. He reported the problem to your father's company because they maintained his vehicles.”
Alex stared at the envelope.
“My father runs Whitmore Holdings. He doesn't repair cars.”
“His company owned the garage that serviced my grandfather's limousine.”
“That proves nothing.”
“Correct. Which is why I haven't accused anyone.”
She placed the envelope in his hand.
Inside was a photograph of a mechanic standing beside his grandfather's black limousine. The date printed on the back was two days before the fatal crash.
Alex recognized the man.
He had seen him at his father's private estate only last week.
“Where did you get this?” he demanded.
“From a source who disappeared shortly after sending it to me.”
Alex looked toward the mansion.
“What do you want from me?”
“The truth.”
“And if I can't give it to you?”
Elena's expression hardened.
“Then I suggest you start asking why your father paid that mechanic three million dollars the morning after my grandfather died.”
Alex went pale.
His phone vibrated.
A message from his father appeared on the screen.
DO NOT SPEAK TO ELENA ASHFORD. COME TO MY OFFICE IMMEDIATELY.
A second message followed.
SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT WE DID TO HER FAMILY.
Alex read it twice.
Then he looked up.
Elena was already walking away.
May you like
She hadn't seen the message.
But somehow, she had known exactly what it would say.
