Chapter 5 5

The Presidential Suite at the Four Seasons was larger than Kate's entire childhood home. It was decorated in shades of cream and gold, screaming quiet luxury.

Kate paced the living room floor. She had been waiting for two hours. Her nerves were frayed wires. She walked over to the minibar to pour a glass of water, her hand trembling.

On the writing desk, a stack of files sat next to a leather folio. Kate knew she shouldn't look. She was here as a supplicant, not a spy. But the corner of a photograph was sticking out from under the leather.

She pulled it.

It was a polaroid. Grainy, candid. A younger Armond, looking less like a statue and more like a man, laughing. His arm was draped around a woman with dark, laughing eyes. On the woman's wrist was the Patek Philippe. The engraving on the back-she remembered from the morning-said A.E. & V.

Vanessa. The ghost. The woman who died and took Armond's heart with her.

The sound of the electronic lock buzzing made Kate jump. She shoved the photo back, knocking a heavy fountain pen onto the floor.

Armond walked in, followed closely by Sebastian. He stopped, his eyes darting immediately to the desk.

"What are you doing?" His voice was a whip crack.

"I... I was looking for a napkin," Kate stammered, backing away.

Armond strode over to the desk. He checked the alignment of the papers. He seemed to relax, just a fraction, when he saw the photo was covered. He turned to Sebastian.

"Take these. No business tonight."

Sebastian gathered the files and left, closing the door with a soft click. The silence that followed was heavy.

Armond loosened his tie, tossing it onto the sofa. He looked at Kate, his gaze sweeping over her like he was appraising a piece of real estate.

"Did you shower?" he asked bluntly.

Kate felt heat rush to her cheeks. She nodded.

"Good." He walked toward her. He didn't touch her immediately. He stood close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him.

"Lucas Sterling's audit on your gallery has been flagged for internal review," Armond said. "Your accounts will be unfrozen by morning."

Kate blinked, stunned by the speed of his power. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It's a down payment." He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her collarbone. His touch was electric, sending a shiver down her spine. "Now, fulfill your end."

Kate closed her eyes. She had agreed to this. She leaned into his touch.

Armond moved closer, lowering his head to kiss the pulse point of her neck. But then he froze.

He inhaled sharply.

Kate opened her eyes. Armond had pulled back, a frown marring his forehead.

His fingers, tracing the line of her neck, brushed against something fine and almost invisible. He pulled his hand back, holding a single, dark, baby-fine strand of hair between his thumb and forefinger. It was not hers.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice suddenly cold.

Kate's heart stopped. "Whose hair is this?"

"I... I don't know," she stammered, her mind racing. Her niece? Chloe's baby? The lie felt flimsy even in her own head. "It must be from the gallery."

Armond looked disturbed. The foreign object, the unexplained intimacy it implied, triggered something in his orderly mind. It killed the mood instantly.

"Go wash your neck," he ordered, stepping away from her as if she were contagious. "I don't like it."

Kate's hand flew to her neck, covering the spot he had almost kissed. "I... yes. Okay."

She rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She turned on the shower, sinking to the floor. She buried her face in her hands. That was too close. He had found a piece of his son on her.

In the living room, Armond stared at the bathroom door. He picked up his phone.

"Get me the private investigator," he texted Sebastian. "I want a full timeline of Kate Silva's life for the last five years. Month by month. Especially the time in Switzerland."

He looked at the desk where the photo of Vanessa lay hidden. Kate was hiding something. And he was going to tear her apart until he found it.