THE MAID'S FORCED VOW

Chapter Eight.

Damon moved first. He stepped directly between me and the two men closing in on Micah, raising a hand toward his father.

"Stop them," Damon said. "Now."

Marcus studied his son for a long moment, then raised two fingers. The men stopped where they stood, a few feet from Micah's chair.

"You always did have a soft spot," Marcus said. "Fine. Let's talk business instead."

"There's nothing to discuss," Damon said. "You wanted me married. I'm married. You wanted control of the account. You're not getting it."

"Then your brother in law stays exactly where he is," Marcus said, nodding toward Micah.

I had heard enough. I stepped forward, ignoring the hand Damon raised to stop me.

"You said my mother made choices," I said to Marcus. "Tell me what they were, right now, or I walk out of here and call every reporter in this city about what your family has been doing for the past three years."

Marcus's smile faded slightly. For the first time, he looked less certain.

"Your mother worked in this company's records department," he said. "She found evidence of fraud tied to how my family built its first fortune. Instead of selling that evidence to a competitor, she came to me directly and asked for money to keep quiet. I paid her for years. When she died, the evidence disappeared with her, and I've spent a long time making sure it stays gone."

My mind reeled, but I kept my voice steady. "If she's the one who threatened you, why go after me instead of just letting it go?"

"Because I don't know where the evidence is," Marcus said. "And I don't believe for a second that a woman that careful destroyed it before she died."

The room went quiet. I understood, in that moment, exactly why I had been watched for three years. Not out of cruelty alone, but because Marcus believed I might already have what he wanted, without even knowing it myself.

Damon looked at me, and I could see the same realization forming behind his eyes.

"Let Micah go," Damon said. "She doesn't have it. You can see that."

Marcus considered us both, then finally nodded toward his men.

"You have one week," he said. "Find it, or the next conversation won't be this civil."