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“That would be tragic, baby!”
“I know, but he’s an old man who lost his sons, his daughter-in-law, and his grandchild. Willoughby has gotta be hurting. So, let’s make it easier and meet with him now,” I said.
“My soft-hearted angel,” Diesel drawled as he sent Willoughby a text. It was replied to straight away. “He can be here in twenty minutes.”
“Fine.”
Holy crap, I was about to meet the last living member of my family. Shit!
Chapter Eleven.
Alice
Iheard Diesel approaching and the rumble of his voice. There was no guessing that Diesel was warning Willoughby to behave himself. Another deep tone snapped a reply, and Diesel made a retort. Then the door opened, and Diesel entered. We were in Phoe’s study, and I sat nervously in Phoe’s chair. The man that followed Diesel took my breath away.
“Holy hell, I dreamt of you as a child!” I exclaimed, and the guy stopped.
Willoughby wasn’t as old as I thought he’d be. Maybe about sixty-five, and he stood tall. His shoulders retained some broadness, and his frame was healthy. Willoughby was about six feet in total with the same colour eyes as mine and white groomed hair. He wore a costly suit, but his focus was on me.
“You did?”
“Yes, I called you White Knight.”
“Yes, you did, Alexis. Because even as a child, I had pure white hair. Prematurely, so I might add. But you loved being a princess and making your granddaddy a knight,” Willoughby answered.
His eyes watered, and he wiped tears away angrily. “Alexis, you look just like your mother. But you’ve got Edward’s eyes.”
“I wondered where they came from as neither of my parents… kidnappers… whatever, had the same colour.”
“God, it’s like looking at Hilary as a young woman. The similarity is uncanny. Here, I brought you this. It’s yours, copies of pictures of you as a baby and with your parents. You don’t need to look now, but it’s there for when you get curious,” Willoughby said, holding out a photo album.
Gingerly, I reached out and took it.
“Thank you. Please understand, I can’t look now. It would be too overwhelming just before this meeting. And thanks again for volunteering your men. I’m sure they will be helpful.”
“If it keeps you safe, then I’ll do anything. Whatever this operation needs to take those down responsible for your parents’ death and your kidnapping, they’ll have it,” Willoughby swore.
Strangely, I believed him. The anguish on Willoughby’s face couldn’t be faked, nor could his determination. Willoughby was ready to help in any way possible.
“For over ten years now, I’ve been Alice. Out of respect for my mom and dad, I wouldn’t change my name legally, but Alexis died metaphorically when she was kidnapped and raised in a brainwashing cult. In time, the news of my reappearance will lead to many calling me Alexis again. But my family always calls me Alice. Willoughby, I’m inviting you to do the same. Accept me as Alice,” I said cautiously.
Willoughby’s throat worked as he digested my words. I saw the inclination to deny them straight out of hand, but he wasn’t the fifth richest man in the world for nothing.
“So very honoured, dear, to call you the name you chose,” he finally replied.
Willoughby accepted the offer to be part of my family.
“Be warned. I have a mind of my own, and you won’t bully me. Nor make me give up Diesel.”
Willoughby scowled as he glared at Diesel. Diesel scowled straight back, and I hid a smile. There was no heat in either glare.
“Now, may I have a hug, grandfather?” I asked.
This time, Willoughby couldn’t control his tears as he tore across the room to fold me into his arms.
Willow
I’d taken over Aunt Phoe’s dining room, and there were stands with satellite images of the cult’s compound. The cult was heavily defended. There were also pictures of the twelve Ministers. Intel claimed there were over two hundred and fifty men and an estimated similar number of women and children. We had blown-up photographs of buildings labelled with what they were used for and ten photos of ladies who seemed to oversee the others.
