Chapter 2 The Accusation
For a few seconds, I simply stared at the photograph lying on the table.
My father smiled back at me from the picture, looking exactly the way I remembered him before everything fell apart. His eyes were warm, his arm was thrown around my shoulders, and there wasn’t a single sign that one day he would leave me behind with nothing but debts and unanswered questions.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze to Alexander Kingston.
“That’s impossible.” His expression didn’t change. “I don’t make accusations without proof.”
The calmness in his voice annoyed me more than if he had shouted.
“You didn’t know my father.”
“I knew enough.”
“No, you didn’t.”
My hands clenched at my sides. I had spent the last two years defending my father’s memory to creditors, strangers, and people who suddenly acted like they knew everything about him after he died. I wasn’t about to sit there and let a billionaire insult him.
“My father wasn’t a thief.”
Alexander studied me carefully. It felt like he was measuring every reaction, every word.
“Most daughters would say that.”
Anger rushed through me.
“Because most daughters know their fathers.”
The corner of his jaw tightened.
For a moment neither of us spoke. The silence stretched across the room.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city looked tiny beneath us. Cars moved like ants far below while expensive buildings filled the skyline.
I suddenly felt trapped. I wasn’t there for a job anymore. I was there because Alexander Kingston wanted answers or revenge.
I wasn’t sure which.
“If this isn’t an interview,” I said, forcing myself to stay calm, “then why am I here?”
His eyes remained fixed on mine.
“Because you’re the only thing your father left behind.”
The words hit harder than I expected. Something painful twisted inside my chest.
I hated how easily he spoke about a man he had never cared about.
“My father died two years ago.”
“I know.”
“Then whatever problem you had with him should’ve died with him.”
A shadow crossed his face.
“No. It didn’t.”
That answer unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.
Alexander wasn’t speaking like a man chasing an old grudge. He sounded like someone who had spent years waiting, planning, holding onto something he couldn’t let go.
I looked at the photograph again.
“What exactly do you think he stole?”
Alexander’s eyes darkened.
“Something that belongs to my family.”
I waited. He didn’t continue. I let out a frustrated breath.
“That’s it? That’s your explanation?”
“You don’t need the details.”
“I think I do.”
“No.”
The blunt answer irritated me. I pushed my chair back and stood.
“Then we’re done here.”
For the first time, something close to surprise flashed across his face.
Maybe people weren’t used to walking away from him.
Unfortunately for Alexander Kingston, I had spent the last two years dealing with debt collectors and landlords. Rich men no longer scared me.
I grabbed my bag. Before I could take another step, his voice stopped me.
“You’re hired.”
I froze. Slowly, I turned around.
“What?”
Alexander looked completely serious.
“The position is yours.”
For a second, I wondered if I had heard him correctly.
Then reality returned.
“No.”
This time he looked surprised.
“No?”
“You just accused my dead father of being a thief.”
His expression remained unreadable.
“And?”
I almost laughed.
“And you think I want to work for you?”
“Most people would.”
“Good thing I’m not most people.”
Something flickered in his eyes. Interest.
It vanished so quickly I almost imagined it.
Alexander leaned back slightly.
“You need this job.”
The confidence in his voice annoyed me.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know your apartment lease is overdue.”
My stomach dropped.
“I know you’re carrying debt that wasn’t yours.”
I stopped breathing.
“I know three collection agencies call you every week.”
A chill ran down my spine.
How much had he investigated?
My anger quickly mixed with unease.
“You had me investigated?”
“Of course.”
The way he said it made it sound completely normal. I stared at him.
Alexander Kingston had probably never heard the word boundaries in his life.
“You have serious issues.”
A faint smile touched his mouth. It was gone almost immediately. Still, it changed his entire face.
For a second, he looked younger, less intimidating. Then the expression disappeared.
“I’ll double the salary.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“The offer you received.”
I crossed my arms.
“I’m not interested.”
“I’ll triple it.”
My heart nearly stopped.
Triple it?
Nobody in their right mind turned down that kind of money.
Unfortunately, accepting would mean working for him and right now I wasn’t sure which option was worse.
Alexander seemed to notice my hesitation.
“One year.”
I frowned. “What?”
“The contract lasts one year.”
His voice remained calm.
“After that, you’re free to leave.”
I hated the fact that I was considering it. I hated it even more because he knew I was considering it.
The bills sitting in my apartment flashed through my mind.
The debt, the overdue rent, the collection calls. I needed money desperately, and Alexander knew it.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke. Then he stood. The movement immediately reminded me how tall he was.
He walked toward the windows overlooking the city.
“Think about it.”
I followed his gaze. The view was breathtaking.
Everything looked so small from up there, including me.
“You haven’t told me who the client is.”
A strange expression crossed his face. Then he turned toward me.
“Ethan Brooks.”
My eyes widened. The athlete from the accident. The same athlete who had grabbed my wrist. The same athlete who had whispered those strange words before losing consciousness.
Suddenly, the pieces started connecting. Immediate availability, high-profile client, sports therapist, Ethan.
“He’s awake?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Relief washed over me before I could stop it. Alexander noticed, of course he did.
Nothing seemed to escape him.
“He specifically requested you.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
Alexander walked back toward the table.
“Ethan wants you on his recovery team.”
That made absolutely no sense. The man had spoken to me for less than ten seconds.
Why would he request me?
Unless…
The unfinished warning returned to my mind.
Don’t let them…
A knot formed in my stomach. Something wasn’t right.
“What happened to him?” I asked quietly.
Alexander’s expression hardened.
“He was hit by a car.”
“I know that.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What are you asking?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t sure how to explain it without sounding crazy.
“Ethan tried to tell me something before he passed out.”
The room suddenly became very still. Alexander’s gaze sharpened.
“What did he say?”
The reaction caught me off guard. I swallowed.
“He said, ‘Don’t let them…’ and then he lost consciousness.”
For the first time since entering the room, Alexander looked genuinely unsettled.
Not scared, not shocked, concerned. The change lasted only a second before his expression became unreadable again.
But I had seen it and now I knew something he didn’t want me to know.
The silence stretched between us. Then a knock interrupted the moment.
The office door opened. A woman stepped inside wearing a tailored navy suit.
She looked nervous, very nervous.
“Mr. Kingston,” she said carefully.
Alexander didn’t take his eyes off me.
“What is it?”
The woman hesitated.
“I think you should see this.”
She handed him a tablet. Alexander glanced down. The color drained from his face. My pulse quickened.
Whatever he was looking at had shaken him and a man like Alexander Kingston didn’t seem easy to shake.
Slowly, he turned the screen toward me.
At first, I only saw a photograph.
Then my heart stopped. The image showed Ethan Brooks sitting upright in a hospital bed.
That wasn’t the shocking part.
The shocking part was the message written across the paper he was holding.
Three words, three simple words written in black marker.
FIND ISABELLA HART.
And underneath it was something even worse.
A second line, a line that made every hair on my body stand up.
SHE’S IN DANGER.
