Chapter 2

Kennedy's POV

Three days later, the company hosts its annual industry summit.

As senior partner, I'm running the whole thing. Connor, meanwhile, has been invited as an industry expert to speak on the afternoon panel.

At ten a.m., I'm backstage going over the final rundown when Dylan calls.

"Kennedy, got everything." I can hear the disgust in his voice. "They've been screwing around for at least six months. Connor's been using his project budget to rent her a luxury apartment downtown. He's also been feeding her some of your private industry contacts. And get this, she's at your summit today. VIP pass."

"Send me everything. Lease payments, proof you handed over my contacts, all of it."

"You got it. Should I go ahead?"

"Not yet." I watch the crowd gathering beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. "If the prey walks right into the trap, might as well roll out the red carpet."

I hang up and head toward the VIP lounge.

When I push the door open, Willow Reed is sitting on the leather sofa.

She wears a business suit, barely any makeup, going for that innocent, girl-next-door look. She stands in front of the full-length mirror, fussing with a necklace around her neck.

That necklace. The one Connor gave me for our fifth anniversary. I left it in the car's storage compartment this morning because it clashed with my turtleneck.

The car Connor drove to the venue.

When the door opens, Willow turns. Panic flashes across her face before she pastes on an innocent smile.

"Hi, can I help you?" She stands, clasping her hands in front of her.

I ignore the act and walk straight toward her, staring at the diamond necklace around her neck.

"Willow Reed, right?" I keep my voice cold. "Intern on Connor's team."

Her smile freezes. She clearly didn't expect me to know her name.

"Yes... do you know me?"

"I don't know you." I lean in slightly, looking right at her. "But I know that necklace. It's mine."

Willow's hand flies to her throat. Her eyes well up instantly. "I'm sorry, what are you talking about? Professor Mitchell lent this to me to go with my outfit. He said I'm assisting him today and I needed to look professional, not embarrass him. You can't just accuse me of stealing!"

"Lent?" A sharp laugh escapes me. "Did Connor mention the engraving on the back? My initials, KHM?"

The color drains from Willow's face. She fumbles with the clasp, hands shaking too badly to undo it.

The door swings open.

"What's going on?" Connor strides in. When he sees Willow and me facing off, his expression cycles through shock and barely concealed panic.

"Kennedy, what are you doing here?" He moves instinctively to block Willow.

"Professor Mitchell..." Willow ducks behind him, voice trembling. "This woman says the necklace is hers and she's been so mean to me... I didn't know..."

Connor spots the necklace. His face darkens. He whips around and snaps at Willow, "Take it off. Now."

Then he turns back to me, trying to look apologetic. "Kennedy, listen. This is Willow's first time at an event this big. She didn't have the right accessories, so I thought I'd let her borrow your necklace to help her out. I meant to tell you but it slipped my mind with everything going on. Don't take it out on her."

"Help her out?" I look at this man I've been married to for five years. "You took your wife's anniversary gift and put it on your intern to help her look the part? Connor Mitchell, do you realize how messed up that is?"

"Kennedy!" Connor raises his voice. "You don't need to be so harsh about it. She's just a student. You're a senior partner at a major firm. Is one necklace really worth humiliating her over? Where's your sense of perspective?"

"I don't waste perspective on thieves and liars." I stare right back at him.

"You're being ridiculous!" Connor shoves my shoulder.

In heels, I stumble back two steps. My lower back slams into the edge of the coffee table.

Pain shoots through me. I wince but don't let myself slump.

Out in the hallway, a few staff members peer in at the commotion.

Connor looks at his own hand. Regret flickers across his face, then vanishes. His expression hardens.

"You started this," he says.

I steady myself. Looking at the two of them, all I feel is cold calculation.

"Connor Mitchell." My voice stays quiet, but it carries to the people in the hallway. "She's your student, not mine. To me, she's just someone who helped herself to my things. A thief. Give me the necklace back, then get out of my venue. Both of you."

"What are you talking about? I'm speaking this afternoon!" Connor stares at me in disbelief.

"Not anymore." I smooth my sleeves. "I'm telling the organizers that Professor Mitchell won't be speaking today. Personal conduct issues."

"Kennedy Harper, you've lost your mind! What do you gain from this?"

I don't look at him again. I turn toward the door.

"You better pray that speech is all you lose today."