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Nobody but me will ever have you. Keep our secrets and stay away from other men, especially one ‘Charming Prince,’ or their remains will be desecrated worse than Jonathon’s.
Her secrets and lies had been so entangled at that point she hadn’t dared tell even the kind Detective Jensen Allendale the truth. Luckily, Treven had gone to prison shortly after Sunny was born as an accomplice to the murder that Hattie Ballard had committed. Miss Ballard had first murdered a young lady named Jane Presley. So sad. Nobody knew at the time of the murder that Hattie was even involved. Most assumed Treven had made up some female scapegoat.
To think, it was the Hattie Ballard who’d killed the young tourist Jane. It was mind-blowing to believe that the gorgeous, smiling, adventurous, world-traveling, billionaire heiress Hattie Ballard could be a cold-blooded murderer. Recently, Hattie had stabbed and killed another person, some Polish man named Franz Wengreen. Poor guy probably had no idea who he’d gotten involved with.
Sophie couldn’t do anything about Hattie Ballard, only be grateful the murderous woman was dead and even more grateful that Treven was back in prison, this time on kidnapping charges.
The most important thing was Sunny was safe and happy. Sacrificing Malik’s love had been a vicious price to pay, but she knew firsthand that Treven’s tentacles could reach far beyond prison, especially with friends and parents like his. William and Naomi Rindlesbacher appeared benevolent, wealthy, and classy, but they were every bit as evil as their son and only lived for their own self-serving interests.
Sophie had watched them destroy her friend Livvy Moser’s life and career. The accomplished pianist had once starred on the top stages in the world; now she quietly taught piano lessons from her home and prayed like Sophie that Treven wouldn’t get released and she could stay off the Rindlesbachers’ radar.
Sophie shuddered to think what the Rindlesbachers would do if they figured out Sunny was Treven’s daughter.
Pushing all those ugly thoughts away, she let herself focus on what she always wanted to—Prince Malik August. She’d never known Malik’s equal. He’d lifted and inspired and dreamed with her, always claiming she saw the true him, his insecurities and worries about being the youngest prince and wanting to excel like his brothers had, but still loved him completely.
“Miss Pederson?” Marci, one of the teenagers serving tonight, approached her. “There’s a man waiting behind the tent who wants a word with you.”
A man? Her heart fluttered. All her resolve to watch Malik from afar and not get close enough to talk to him, flirt with him, touch his hand, look into those blue eyes … What if he kissed her? There was nothing she could do but respond if he instigated a kiss. Right?
“Miss?”
“Thank you, Marci.” She tugged off her apron and gloves, fluffed her hair, smoothed her dress, and slid on some cinna-mint lip gloss before stashing it back in her bra next to her phone.
Malik had come for her. Oh my! She could never be with him, but just a stolen moment to talk to him, look in his blue eyes, see how he was truly doing… Her nerves tingled with anticipation. Would he still be devastated and upset with her? Malik was a defender and protector of women. Even when she’d broken his heart with her supposed infidelity, he’d simply walked away when most people would have ranted or yelled—or worse.
Was over five years enough time for him to forgive her? It couldn’t matter as she’d never be able to confess her love, but just to be close, maybe give him an impulsive hug …
Gliding out of the tent, she eased around to the back, unable to hide a smile of joyful anticipation.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she looked into the evil gaze and eerily familiar bluish-gray eyes of none other than William Rindlesbacher, Treven’s father and her angelic daughter’s grandfather. Cold chills pricked at her skin.
“Miss Pederson.” The man looked like a smooth, wealthy aristocrat, but he was as foul and brilliantly manipulative as his son. The only person more underhanded, sneaky, and seemingly benevolent than William was Naomi Rindlesbacher. William’s wife and Treven’s mother was a modern-day Lady de Winter, evil and deceptive and beautiful.
“Mr. Rindlesbacher.” Sophie tilted her chin, needing to appear in control and unafraid even as she backed into the canvas material of the tent. She clutched her hands behind her so he couldn’t see how badly they shook. If only she could cut a hole through the canvas and escape to her safe space of preparing and serving delicious food. Truly she wanted to run home, hold her daughter close, and be reassured this man would never touch, or even know about, his granddaughter.
“If you’ll pardon me,” she said in a cold, and she prayed confident, voice. “I have a very important wedding reception to cater.”
He clamped his hand around her hip, right at the fold of her dress. It was weird and creepy for him to grab her like that, but at least he wasn’t touching her skin. His smile was as smooth and snake-like as ever. “You have something of mine, Miss Pederson, and my wife and I would like you to return it.”
“Excuse me?” She yanked away from him. Her heart beat high and fast. He couldn’t mean …
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. A beautiful child my son created. Sunny Pederson, though soon she will be Sunny Rindlesbacher.”
“You st-stay away from my daughter,” she stuttered, her tongue thick and her hands clammy.
They knew. She’d been afraid that jerk Treven would connect the dots and tell his parents, but it had been over five years and nothing. Why now? How had they found out? How could she escape and protect Sunny?
“She is my granddaughter.”
“Jonathon Lathum is the father of my baby,” she insisted.
William only let out an ugly, knowing laugh. Then he edged in closer.
Sophie wanted to back away—no, she wanted to run away—but this predator could smell fear. She tilted her chin, narrowed her eyes, prayed desperately for help and strength and most of all protection for Sunny, and clenched her hands into fists to hide their trembling.
“My lovely wife saw the child at the Open Green with your mother. She was stunned to see the little one wasn’t as dark-skinned as you and has the same grayish-blue eyes that I share with our son, Treven.” He arched an eyebrow. “Naomi asked Treven at our most recent visit when he had last spent ‘time’ with you. What a pleasant surprise to realize the dates add up perfectly.”
Sophie couldn’t catch a breath. Her heart was going to pound straight out of her chest.
