Chapter 1 - THE GIRL WHO WOULDN'T LET GO
The silence in the Hollis dining room lasted long after Grace spoke.
Damian stood between his daughter and Viviana, his expression so controlled that even the staff seemed afraid to breathe. Lara Bennett remained beside the table with a water glass in her hand. She had worked at the estate for eleven months, and in all that time she had never seen Damian look at anyone the way he was looking at his fiancée now.
“Grace,” he said gently, lowering himself until he was eye level with her. “Can you tell me what you mean?”
The little girl pressed her cheek against Lara's apron. “Viviana said Lara was bad. She said Lara had to learn not to talk back.”
Viviana gave a brittle laugh. “She's confused. Children repeat things they hear.”
Grace shook her head. “You said if Lara told Daddy, you would make her go away.”
Damian's gaze moved to Lara. “Did something happen today?”
Lara's throat tightened. She had spent weeks trying to keep Grace out of Viviana's reach. She had noticed the way the child flinched when a glass shattered, the way she went silent whenever Viviana entered the room, and the small bruises that appeared on her arms without explanation.
“Grace came to the pantry this afternoon,” Lara said. “She was frightened. I asked what was wrong. Viviana came in and told her to stop making trouble.”
“That isn't what happened,” Viviana interrupted. “Lara has been trying to turn Grace against me for months.”
Damian didn't look away from Lara. “Did you touch my daughter?”
“No. I would never hurt her.”
“Then why does she think you did?”
Lara glanced at Grace. “Because someone told her to say it.”
Viviana's face hardened. “How dare you?”
Grace began to tremble. Lara set the glass down and knelt beside her. “You don't have to be afraid.”
Damian noticed the way Grace immediately reached for Lara's hand. It was not the grip of a child seeking comfort after a small disagreement. It was the desperate hold of someone who believed she might be separated from the only safe person in the room.
“Viviana,” he said, “go to the sitting room.”
“Damian, she's lying.”
“Now.”
Viviana left, but not before sending Grace a look so sharp that the child buried her face against Lara's shoulder.
Damian waited until the door closed. “Grace, sweetheart, I need you to tell me the truth. Did Viviana hit Lara?”
Grace nodded. “She pushed her into the pantry shelf. Then she said I had to tell you Lara did it.”
Lara's eyes filled. The bruise beneath her sleeve had been hidden for two days.
Damian saw it. His expression changed.
“Call Dr. Patel,” he ordered the house manager. “And bring me the security recordings from the west corridor, the pantry, and this room. No one edits or deletes anything.”
Grace looked up at him. “Are you mad at Lara?”
He gathered her carefully into his arms. “No, sweetheart.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Never.”
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But as Grace buried her face against his shoulder, Damian looked over her head at the closed door. For the first time, he wondered whether the woman he planned to marry had been hurting his daughter—and whether the staff had been too frightened to tell him.
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