Chapter 3 - Ghosts of the PastThe memory hit Julian like a physical blow. Elena Vance. Brilliant, creative, and fiercely independent—a woman Julian had briefly known before her tragic, untimely death from an alleged gas leak in her apartment. The police had ruled it an accident. The case was closed.
Except, looking at Marcus’s folder, Julian saw a photograph of a young Elena holding a toddler. The facial structure, the defiant tilt of the chin, the expressive, melancholic eyes—it was Anna.
"She knows," Julian whispered, the color draining from his face. "She didn't just stumble into my house by accident. She's been watching me."
"Worse," Marcus replied grimly. "She started working for the catering agency that services your private residence three months ago. She has been inside your house, Julian. She knows your schedule, your security codes, and every dark secret locked away in your study."
Vivian stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing as danger spiked through her veins. "So she’s an extortionist. A vulture looking for a payday. Why haven't you had her arrested yet?"
"Because," a cold, calm voice interrupted from the doorway.
Julian and Vivian whipped around. Standing in the entrance was Anna. She had changed out of her waitress uniform into a simple black coat, her hair tied back, but her presence commanded the entire room. Sophie was sleeping soundly on the sofa behind her, wrapped in a cashmere blanket.
"You can't have me arrested, Mr. West," Anna said, stepping fully into the room. "Because if you do, the world finds out what really happened to my mother the night before the West Tower contract was signed."
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Julian stood up slowly, towering over her, his eyes flashing with lethal intent. "You’re playing a very dangerous game, Miss Vance. You think a ghost story can bring me down?"
"It’s not a ghost story," Anna replied, stepping closer until she could smell the expensive scotch on his breath. "It’s murder. And I have the receipts."
