Chapter 4

I was in awe of the scene around me.

There were gardens and a circular driveway that surrounded a massive running fountain. Not one bush or hedge on this whole estate was left untrimmed. The house on the other side of the fountain was even more of a spectacular sight. The structure consisted of a dark smooth stone, wet from the weather. It looked more like a mansion than a house.

Gio drove around the circle driveway and parked in front of the fountain; the tires came to a crunching halt on the fine white gravel. I was looking in every direction, trying to absorb everything. The front doors of the house looked like heavy wooden and wrought-iron fortresses. Even the sight of them made me feel safe from any outside danger.

I opened the car door and continued to observe in silence. A cool breeze blowing through the tall pines was the only sound that could be heard besides a few birds. It was a surreal feeling.

"Isn't she lovely?" I felt Gio nudge me.

"She certainly is." I breathed. It was quiet, serene, idyllic. Everything I ever wanted in a place to live. I could almost feel my Father's own spirit and energy here.

"Wait 'till you see the pond out back. I can'na gather why your old man wasn't out there every day."

Pond?I rushed through the heavy front doors with help from Woody and ran to the back patio. Sure enough, there was a wide dark blue expanse of water. Calm, except for the moving willow trees and geese beating their wings. At that moment I didn't think I ever wanted to leave where I was standing.

"The gardeners did a wonderful job tending to it after your Father passed. That is Harry and Andrew." Gio pointed down to two men who were both climbing out of a sleek, small boat on a narrow wooden dock. They were both older and looked like they were related. "They are the managers of the estate." Gio pointed out. I immediately rushed down to greet them.

"You did an amazing job here, thank you both."

They smiled and thanked me profusely in return.

Harry looked like he something more to say, but paused.

"I hope you will continue to stay on staff here." I said quickly.

"We really appreciate that, Ms. Westfield." Harry replied. It looked as if a weight had been lifted of both of their shoulders suddenly.

"I also hope you'll join us for dinner tonight?" I asked. "I'd like to get to know all of you better." My gaze went instinctively to William, who bowed his head a little. Harry and Andrew accepted the invitation without hesitation.

"Let's see the inside, shall we?" Gio called from back on the patio.

I waved goodbye to them both and Will and I made our way back towards the house slowly. His cellphone rang and he answered it quickly.

"Will."

"si."

"Gli parlerò domani."

I tried to wipe the shocked expression on my face. The few Italian college classes I had was enough for me to know he was speaking the language fluently. The conversation continued but I could only pick out certain words. He was talking about was about meeting with someone about something I couldn't catch.

He signed off on the call and shoved the phone back into his front pants pocket. The awkward silence that followed was unbearable.

Attempting to be the bigger person, I felt that something had to be said to smooth out the wrinkles our first meeting created.

"So, you speak Italian?" He wasn't surprised by my question. If the two of us were expected to get along for the next few weeks I might as well know somethingabout him.

"Yes. I speak five languages." Wow.

"Which language is your original?" I mentally slapped myself after I said it. He has an English accent.

"I was born in Ireland."

"Did you grow up there?"

"My family moved to London when I was five." His playful smile was gone and replaced with a grim line. Something told me the personal questions route was a blaring mistake. Mental note not to go down that road again.

Feeling that the 20 questions game (on my part) was over, I proceeded into the house and ignored the walls of tension that had just gone up on his side. What a grouch!

The living room was enormous. The fireplace was a stage of its own and dramatic paintings hung from every wall on the same stone walls that were featured on the exterior. I was dismayed to find none of paintings featured either my Father or Mother.

All of the appliances in the kitchen were modern and made by companies I had never heard of. I hesitated before entering what seemed to be my Father's office. Perhaps I wasn't ready to go in there just yet.

Charles walked up and squeezed my shoulder with his one good hand. "It's okay, no need to worry about that if you're not ready just yet."

I offered him a half smile. "Thanks."

I couldn't believe the splendor of the place. "If Dad would have told me about this estate years ago, nothing would have stopped me from coming here."

"Believe me, I wish he would have told you more about this place." Charles sighed.

He escorted me back to the main hall, but I took one last look at the office. There was a part of me that wanted to appease this increasing desire to find out more about my Father and the company he managed, once and for all.

"Let me show you to your room, Eva." Gio kindly took my bags and followed me up the wide marble staircase near the front door. I imagined that the cold, smooth surface would feel marvelous on my bare feet. "Second door to the left."

I noticed a much larger door ahead. That must have been my Father's room.

"William will be in the next room. And I'll be the one over from that." Gio noted.

I cringed. The desire to now be alone with my thoughts overwhelmed me. I wanted to go through Dad's office alone, as it was my burden to bear and I hated the thought of anyone being a part of such a personal matter. Especially William-the-grouch. Perhaps there was still a chance I could sneak out to Dad's office later without him noticing.

My room was as grand as the rest of the house. Large windows and a small iron-gated terrace gave me a view of the pond. I had a feeling that would be my favorite spot.

The art on the interior of the room was also exquisite. There were a few ancient pieces of pottery in opposite corners of the room. I could imagine that my Father found them in some foreign marketplace. I longed to know each piece's story.

In the corner of my eye I noticed a photograph propped upon the nightstand. I gasped when I realized it was one taken of me when I was five years old! I was overjoyed by the sight of it and rushed over to get a closer look.

"Your Father intended for this to be your room when he was ready for you to come visit." I lowered the photograph slowly, a new wave of emotion sweeping through me.

"But he never wanted me to visit." He probably never intended for this room to ever be used by me.

Gio stood still. I didn't have to look at him to know this whole ordeal was taking just as much of an emotional toll on him as it was on me.

"Maybe that's because he never thought it was safe enough for you. He felt that distance was the best thing for the both of you."

I guess I would never know the real reason now that he was gone. I bit back a fighting rage of tears.

"You know I would never lie to you Eva." Gio breathed in deeply. "I told you your Father really did love you and I meant that."

I nodded and hugged the photograph to my chest.

"Thank you, Gio."

*******

That evening, a quiet soiree with Gio, Charles and Will somehow turned into more of a neighborhood gathering. I was delighted when Pia and Woody joined later that evening along with Harry and Andrew, who brought their families. A few neighbors brought food and condolences once the news spread that the late Mr. Westfield's daughter was in town to tend to his estate.

There was much laughter among the children playing by the pond. I sat in one of the lawn chairs smiling while watching them play tag and jump into the water to swim. I idly wondered if Dad ever sat out here and watched the sunsets. If not, then he really missed out.

"It's getting cold out."

I craned my neck to look behind, wondering who dared disturb my peaceful sunset reverie. William stood pointedly with a blanket in his hand. Part of me wondered if Gio told him to do that.

"Thanks." I replied quietly. I accepted the warm blanket and wrapped it around myself.

I quickly sat back down, expecting him to leave. When I didn't hear footsteps, I looked back over my shoulder. His dark brown eyes didn't leave mine.

"What?" I snapped a little harsher than intended. He didn't stop staring. Instead, he walked around my chair slowly and sat in the vacant one beside mine. We silently observed the glassy water for what seemed like eternity.

"I owe you an apology." He stated gruffly.

I fought the satisfaction his confession gave me.

"For?" I answered smugly.

"I was out of line when I spoke to you earlier." I kept the dry sarcasm that wanted to escape my lips on the down note.

"Thank you. I accept your apology." I stated abruptly.

The silence that followed was unbearable. I stole a side-glance at him and realized he had changed from his suit to a black T-shirt that exposed more than a little of his strong biceps. I felt the red creeping up the side of my neck.

The sun continued to sink until there was only a sliver left and the children were ordered to take their play away from the pond.

After a minute I could feel William's stare on the back of my neck as I watched the small ones running back towards their families.

"Tomorrow's a big day." I finally said. Gio had informed me in a small 'briefing' meeting that tomorrow was the day he had arranged for me to meet with the board of WWM, my Father's corporation. WWM. I could guess that one of the Ws stood for 'Westfield' but was at a loss on the other two. He had also informed me the company was devoted to technological 'security' advancements. He said the board knew I had never been a part of the business growing up, so they didn't expect me to be familiar with the language or culture, something that would be developed in time if I so choose.

I supposed that on some deeper level, it was also time to decide whether I was to keep or sell the company. I decided that I couldn't even consider it until I knew more about WWM itself and how my Father ran it. I wasn't going to sign anything away or tick any boxes without a highly skilled lawyer present.

"Yes... " Will replied matter-of-factly. "And you're wondering if you're going to sell the company or not."

"What?" I asked, shaken back to the present.

"You're dealing with conflict every time you talk about it. Weather you'd like to sell or keep your Father's company." I gasped. How did he even know I was thinking about it?

"Please continue." I replied, seeing he had more to say. His dark eyebrows lifted, surprised that I was entertaining this conversation.

"Perhaps you feel like it meant too much to your Father, but in return you also feel like this is your last chance to truly get to know him. You want to believe he wasn't some bad guy to have been involved in whatever pushed the both of you into a life-threatening situation."

I couldn't form a reply. Not only was that the truth, it hurt myself to admit that it was. I was usually the type of person to give the benefit of the doubt, the innocent until proven guilty approach to anyone; but I couldn't help it when my mind slipped a little to the dark side.

"I have a lot to think about." There was a long, lazy pause. "But first I need some sleep." I stood, keeping the blanket wrapped around me.

Will cleared his throat. He seemed oddly disappointed that our conversation had come to such an abrupt end.

"I'll escort you back, Ms. Westfield."Back to Mr. Official I see.

He followed me inside where the neighbors appeared to be leaving. I quickly thanked each one of the guests and promised to invite them over again soon.

One of the neighbors, a Mrs. Jennings from down the road, took my hand gently in hers. "Your Father was a wonderful man, Eva." Her tone was even and pronounced. "He was very private about his personal life, but always ready to help anyone in need, especially in this community. When I found out he had a daughter I couldn't tell you how pleased I was." Tears began welling up in her clear blue eyes and I reciprocated the emotion. "We're glad to have you here and we are so sorry for the loss you must be feeling." She continued.

I thanked her profusely and escorted her out the front door myself. The multiple emotional waves I had experienced throughout the day were beginning to take their toll. Coupled with the lack of sleep, my shoulders collapsed with the weight of it all.

Against Woody's wishes for me to go upstairs and sleep, I helped him clean the kitchen after another one of his amazing meals. Assuming William and Gio were already in bed by the time we were finished, I tiptoed to my room and closed the door. I dressed quickly into a tank top and shorts and brushed my teeth.

The low light in the large bedroom gave me the feeling I was in some sort of castle, causing me to smile inwardly. The pottery I had noticed earlier were casting long shadows all over the place. I made a mental note to take a picture of this room to show Holly and Jay. Come to think of it, I should be taking pictures of the whole estate and showing them to everyone back home.

I stood by the large window beside the doors leading out to the terrace and decided to open it to let the beautiful summer night air in.

As I stood there silently by the window, the old picture on my nightstand caught my attention once again. I noticed a single book that stood beside it- the only two things sitting on top of the dresser. Was that there before? Suddenly curious, I walked over picked it up. It was an old copy of A Tale of Two Citiesby Charles Dickens. I carefully peeled back the first page and a piece of paper slipped out, falling to the floor. I picked it up, gasping aloud when I saw my name in bold letters hand-written at the top:

My Dearest Eva,

I'm sorry I couldn't get the original copy for your Birthday, it looks like you'll have to find it for yourself. Remember when I read this to you? You may not, you were only 5 years old. Regardless, I know how you love to read so I hope you enjoy it.

All My Love,

A.R Westfield

It was from my Father! I wanted to scream with joy. Of course I remembered! His reading A Tale of Two Cities was easily one of my most cherished memories during his few visits to LA.

He must have intentionally hid this message here for me! Almost Immediately I wondered if there were any more of these!I was suddenly convinced that I needed to see for myself what could be in his office. Any pictures, letters, anything to convince myself that my real Father loved me and was the good man everyone here claimed him to be. Feeling suddenly awake and alert, I began searching through the dresser drawers and found a small flashlight hidden in the back. Eureka!Now the trick was getting downstairs without waking 3 of my highly trained security staff.

I held my breath as I managed getting past William's and Gio's rooms with hardly a sound on the refurbished wooden floors. The easy part was then padding down the marble staircase and coasting my way to the office.

There was a bronze lamp on a dark mahogany desk but I decided not to turn it on. The flashlight would have to do for now. The first thing I noticed were the massive bookcases filled with books, but that wasn't where I thought of looking first. I began opening and searching through the drawers and feeling the sides for any slips of paper or anything else out of place. The first thing that came to my attention was a stack of papers in one of the drawers with the heading WWM typed on the front. The company! I sat down in his over-sized leather chair, excited by my sudden discovery. It wasn't really what I was searching for, but I was getting tired of waiting to find out more information. I paused for a moment, wondering if what I found in these pages would alter my decision to sell the company. William's words from earlier rang through my head.

"Oh brother." I sighed. No matter, I would know the truth sooner or later. I began browsing. The stack mostly consisted of bank notices and company orders.

I caught three words at the top of one of the pages. Westfield Weapon Manufacturing. On the next page was the same thing. My hand went to my mouth in disbelief. Millions of thoughts swam in my head, but only one rang true now. My Father manufactured weapons. For whom? What kind of weapons? Nuclear?

I suddenly remembered Gio's words to me the night Charles was shot. Something about "most powerful technological developments in world history." I quickly shoved the papers back in the drawer, my heartbeat racing.

Maybe the reason my Father hid this place from me for so long, why Gio now was easing me into it, is because maybe they were afraid on some level of what I might think or say.

I certainly would have hoped our relationship wasn't as shallow as all that. I quickly stood, flashlight in hand. I came down here to search for pictures and letters and now received more than I bargained for. Yes, it may have been my company now, but Gio was right to shelter me from it as long as he had. Now I was making all sorts of horrible assumptions.

Sure, my Dad may not have been involved in drugs, but weapons?! Double crap, this was not how I envisioned this trip turning out.

Desperate to get my mind on something else, I scanned the bookshelves with my flashlight and landed on a collection sitting on the top shelf 3rd row in. A collection of Charles Dickens novels stood prevalent. My mind flew to the letter upstairs and I tore it out of my shorts pocket, scanning its contents once more. "I'm sorry I couldn't get the original copy for your birthday, it looks like you'll have to find it for yourself." I could feel my pulse racing faster through my temples. The air around me felt eerily warm all of the sudden. Before I could take a step toward the bookshelf the flashlight was knocked out of my hand by a blinding force and two arms clasped around me. My mouth was masked by a deathly strong male grip, crushing my attempt to scream. I. Can't. Breathe! I fought and kicked hard- then a horrible, haunting feeling sank to the pit of my stomach. My thoughts raced to the upstairs bedroom as my mind scrambled frantically, desperately for an escape: I had left the window open.

Author's Note

Fact of life: I LOVE cliffhangers! They are just as much fun to write as to read. Sometimes as the writer you wonder what kind of trouble you've just gotten yourself and your character into. Can't wait to publish next week's chapter! ;)