The Mafia Boss Thought A Maid’s Daughter Was Just A Poor Child — Until Her Old Doll Exposed The Crime That Haunted Him For Years.

PART 9

The engagement gala proceeded as planned. Weston agreed to turn over Owen’s evidence, his own financial records, and the names of officials both families had paid, in exchange for protection for Priya and Wren.

“This does not only destroy them,” Silas said. “It destroys us.”

“I know.”

Grace — Priya entered after Silas left.

“You don’t have to attend tonight,” Weston said.

“Yes, I do.”

“You paid my rent,” Priya said.

“The foundation—”

“Everett is a terrible liar.”

A faint smile touched Weston’s mouth. “Everett has survived thirty-eight years by lying very well.”

“You cannot solve every problem by moving money in the dark.”

“It has worked for most of my adult life.”

“And look how happy you are.”

“Are you afraid?” Priya asked.

Weston remembered Wren’s question in the school office. “Yes.”

Priya reached across the desk and took his hand. “I am too.”

“You should not trust me.”

“I don’t trust the man people whisper about. I trust the man who stood outside a garden at dawn and listened to a child talk to her father.”

“You knew?”

“Wren saw your shoes behind the wall. She thought you were sad and didn’t want to embarrass you.”

A quiet laugh escaped him.