Chapter 1 - The Arrival of the Robertson Storm
The bus jolted over a pothole,
and I gasped as a white-hot flare of pain shot through my abdomen,
reminding me that my body was still held together by surgical thread.
I looked down at Toby,
who was blissfully unaware of the humiliation his father had just rained upon us.
My father’s voice was still ringing in my ears,
steady and cold,
the voice of a man who had built empires and crushed enemies before breakfast.
I didn't get off at my usual stop near the modest apartment I shared with Jasper.
Instead,
at the next intersection,
three black armored vehicles pulled smoothly to the curb,
effectively blocking the bus from moving forward.
The bus driver started to protest,
but he went silent when four men in tailored suits and earpieces stepped out.
The lead man,
Marcus,
who had been my father’s head of security since I was five,
boarded the bus and walked straight to me.
He didn't say a word about the bus fare Jasper had shoved into my hand.
He simply reached for my bag,
his eyes filled with a terrifyingly quiet rage as he saw my pale face.
"The Chairman is waiting,
Miss Robertson,"
he said,
his voice low and respectful.
He helped me stand,
shielding me and Toby from the curious stares of the other passengers.
As we stepped off the bus and into the climate-controlled luxury of the lead SUV,
I felt the first layer of Jasper’s influence begin to peel away.
We arrived at the Robertson estate thirty minutes later,
a sprawling sanctuary of marble and glass that Jasper had never been allowed to visit.
My father,
Finnley Robertson,
was standing on the front steps.
He looked at the way I was clutching my side,
then at the tiny grandson he was meeting for the first time under such horrific circumstances.
He didn't hug me immediately;
he was afraid of hurting my incision.
Instead,
he took Toby from my arms with a tenderness that brought tears to my eyes.
"He sent you on a bus,
Hailey,"
my father whispered,
his jaw tight enough to crack bone.
"He used the car I bought you to take his mother to lunch,"
"while his wife bled on public transport."
I nodded,
the exhaustion finally hitting me like a physical weight.
"He thinks you're a retired contractor,
Dad,"
I said,
my voice trembling.
"He thinks I have nowhere else to go."
My father handed Toby to a waiting nurse and turned to his assistant.
"Cancel the venture capital meeting with Jasper’s firm tomorrow,"
he commanded.
"No,
wait."
"Don't cancel it."
"I want him to show up."
"I want him to think he’s about to become a billionaire,"
"right before I take every single thing he has ever touched."
I watched my father walk inside,
and for the first time in two years,
I felt truly safe.
Jasper had wanted a traditional,
quiet wife who wouldn't complain.
Tomorrow,
May you like
he was going to meet the heiress of Robertson Global,
and he was going to learn exactly how much his lunch reservation had cost him.
