Chapter 4: The Woman on the Contract
I read the document three times.
It didn't change.
My name remained there.
Hannah Elise Mitchell.
My husband's signature beneath mine.
And a company I'd never heard of listed as the beneficiary of an agreement that supposedly existed before our wedding.
I looked at Damien.
“You're saying I wasn't the person Brandon married?””
“I said the contract isn't what you think it is.””
“That isn't an answer.””
“No.””
He took the paper from my hand.
“It isn't.””
I stepped toward him.
“Then tell me.””
Damien looked at Victor.
“Give us five minutes.””
Victor nodded and left.
The door shut.
For the first time since I'd met Damien, we were alone.
He placed the document on the desk.
“Your husband married you because of your family.””
“My family?””
“Your father.””
My stomach dropped.
“My father died when I was nineteen.””
“I know.””
“How?””
Damien didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he opened a drawer and pulled out a thin black folder.
He placed it in front of me.
I stared at it.
“What is that?””
“Everything I know about Daniel Mitchell.””
My father's name.
I couldn't move.
“You knew my father?””
“No.””
“Then why do you have a file on him?””
“Because six years ago, someone stole money from one of my companies.””
I frowned.
“My father?””
“Not exactly.””
Damien opened the folder.
Inside were photographs.
Bank records.
Company registrations.
Shipping documents.
And photographs of my father standing beside men I'd never seen before.
I picked up one photograph.
My father was younger.
He stood outside a warehouse.
Beside him was another man.
I recognized him.
Brandon's father.
My fingers went numb.
“What is this?””
“Your father and Brandon's father were partners.””
“In what?””
“Something that wasn't legal.””
I shook my head.
“My father wasn't a criminal.””
“I didn't say he was.””
“You're implying it.””
“No.””
Damien's voice softened.
“I'm telling you he was involved with dangerous people.””
I looked at another page.
A handwritten ledger.
My father's handwriting.
Numbers.
Dates.
Names.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Blackwood.
I looked up.
“Your family?””
“My father.””
“You're telling me our families knew each other?””
“Yes.””
“How did I never know?””
“Because someone wanted you not to.””
I sat down.
My mind raced backward through memories.
My father had always been secretive about work.
He had traveled often.
He had warned me never to open his old office after he died.
At the time, I'd assumed he meant personal documents.
Now I wondered.
“Why Brandon?””
Damien closed the folder.
“That's the question.””
“Did he marry me for money?””
“Maybe.””
“My family isn't wealthy.””
“Not anymore.””
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?””
Damien's eyes remained on mine.
“Your father hid something.””
“What?””
“We don't know.””
“Then why would Brandon care?””
“Because whatever he hid was valuable enough that people are still killing for it.””
My stomach turned.
“People were shot tonight.””
“Yes.””
“Because of me?””
“Because of something connected to you.””
I stood abruptly.
“I need to call my mother.””
Damien nodded.
“Use my phone.””
I dialed.
It rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
No answer.
I tried again.
Nothing.
My hands started shaking.
“She always answers.””
Damien picked up his phone.
“Victor.””
The door opened almost immediately.
“Boss?””
“Find out whether Mrs. Mitchell is safe.””
Victor nodded.
“On it.””
I turned toward Damien.
“You can do that?””
“Yes.””
“How?””
He gave me a look.
“I have resources.””
That was an understatement.
Ten minutes later, Victor returned.
He looked serious.
“Boss.””
Damien turned.
“What?””
“Her mother's house is empty.””
I stopped breathing.
“What?””
Victor looked at me.
“Neighbors say she left this morning.””
“Where?””
“They don't know.””
I grabbed the back of a chair.
“She wouldn't leave without telling me.””
Damien's face hardened.
“Who knew you were going to contact her?””
I stared at him.
“I—”
Then I remembered.
Brandon.
He had asked about my mother at dinner.
I'd told him I wanted to visit her next weekend.
Damien saw the realization on my face.
“He knew.””
I nodded.
“Oh God.””
Damien stepped toward me.
“Hannah.””
“What if he has her?””
“We'll find her.””
“You don't understand.””
“I understand exactly.””
“No.””
My voice cracked.
“He'll hurt her.””
Damien stood directly in front of me.
“He won't.””
“You can't promise that.””
“I can promise you this.””
His eyes held mine.
“Anyone who touches your mother becomes my problem.””
Something about the certainty in his voice steadied me.
Then the office phone rang.
Damien answered.
“Blackwood.””
A woman's voice came through.
“Damien.””
He froze.
I watched his face.
The woman continued.
“You should stop looking for Hannah Mitchell.””
Damien's eyes narrowed.
“Who is this?””
“You know who I am.””
He stood straighter.
“No.””
The woman laughed.
“You will.””
The call ended.
Damien immediately checked the line.
“Trace it.””
Victor was already moving.
I looked at him.
“Who was that?””
He didn't answer.
“Damien?””
“Someone who knows more than she should.””
“About me?””
“Yes.””
“Who?””
He looked at me.
And for the first time since we'd met, I saw something I'd never expected to see in his eyes.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
“Hannah,” he said quietly.
“We need to leave.””
“Why?””
He grabbed the folder.
“Because they know you're with me.””
A loud crash came from downstairs.
Then the building's fire alarm started screaming.
Victor drew his gun.
Damien grabbed my hand.
We ran.
Halfway down the corridor, every light went out.
Emergency lights flashed red.
A voice came over the building's speakers.
“Damien Blackwood.””
He stopped.
I nearly collided with him.
The voice continued.
“You have something that belongs to us.””
Damien looked at me.
The speakers crackled.
“And if you don't return her…”
May you like
A pause.
“…we'll start with her mother.””
