Chapter 55: The Duty Of The Heir (Book 3): Chapter 55

Knoxville

As I’m walking home from work, lost in my own world, my phone rings, pulling me back to reality. I fish it out of my purse to see Leonard’s name flash across the screen. My pace slows. Hope bubbles up as I answer.

‘Ms. Lewis,’ Leonard’s voice is crisp, ‘I have news. You’ll meet him.’

My heart flutters, hope soaring. ‘Really?’ The word slips out, full of astonishment and gratitude.

‘Yes, but,’ and that’s when his tone shifts, darkening the colors of my sky, ‘there are conditions.’

Listening intently, my surroundings grow distant, the cacophony of traffic a mere backdrop to his words. ‘You’ll fly first-class to Wesbury on Tuesday. The meeting? It’ll be at my house. And Ms. Lewis? It’ll be brief. He leaves right after.’

My excitement is now bridled, tethered by a rush of conditions I hadn’t anticipated. Only a few minutes, and why so brief? ‘That’s… Okay,’ I manage to say, my voice shaking ever so slightly.

Leonard’s next words send a shiver up my spine. ‘Tell no one. Not a soul. I don’t want a repeat of the last time.’

Last time? My mind races, trying to recall what he’s hinting at. The doubt, the skepticism in Leonard’s voice feels like a heavy chain pulling me down, making every step feel like a mountain climb.

“But why so brief?” I manage to ask.

‘Because he’s leaving that same night,’ he replies, explaining the brief nature of our meeting.

I accept it with a sigh. ‘Okay, I understand.’

“Good.”

‘And I can’t tell anyone?’

‘That’s right,’ he confirms.

I can’t help but worry. ‘What if something happens to me?’ I ask, my voice shaking.

‘Nothing will happen to you. I’ll make sure you’re safe,’ he assures me, but it doesn’t quite ease my fears.

‘Please, let me tell just one person. With everything that’s unpredictable in this world…’ I start to argue.

He cuts me off. ‘The people close to you are the reason this blew up in the first place. You’ve got to keep some things to yourself,’ he advises, a note of sternness in his voice.

I try to protest but then falter, feeling a sense of defeat.

‘His wife found out about you,’ he continues, now sounding accusatory and stern. ‘How do you think that happened? Was it me?’

‘How could I possibly know?’ I respond, frustration coloring my voice. ‘Someone obviously talked.’

He gives a scornful laugh.

I can feel eyes on me, though the streets are just dotted with the occasional passerby.

‘Make sure it stays that way. Understand?’

I nod, then realizing he can’t see me, I mutter a subdued, ‘Yes, Leonard.’

The call ends, but its weight doesn’t. The sounds of the city have turned ominous. I pick up my pace, the desire to reach home, to be safe behind locked doors, growing urgent.