Chapter 9

Noah Smith’s head snapped up, rain cascading down his chiseled jawline to pool in tiny droplets on his bruised cheekbone. “You didn’t say a word when you locked me in that cellar,” I hissed, stepping closer. The damp sea wind tore at his tattered collar, exposing a scar on his collarbone. “You didn’t say a word when you killed our child for Clara’s fake pregnancy.” His eyes shut, water clinging to his lashes—rain or tears, I couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she faked it. I just wanted to repay what The Smith Family owed her… and I was afraid… afraid my father would silence you if you knew the truth.” Waves thundered in the distance. I wrenched my hand from his grip, fingers brushing the voice recorder in my pocket. It had been running since he’d stumbled onto the villa steps. The cold metal burned my palm, a reminder this reunion was a calculated standoff. “Noah Smith,” I stepped back, my black heel crushing a beetle underfoot. Its sticky innards splattered across his