Chapter 30

CHAPTER

THIRTY

Natalie pushed open the heavy door to her father’s office, Hudson close behind her.

Richard Ravenscroft stood from behind his massive desk, his posture radiating authority and control. He was in his late fifties, with steel-gray hair cut military-short and piercing blue eyes that missed nothing.

Tall and fit, he moved like someone who’d maintained rigorous physical discipline well into middle age. His face was angular and handsome in a severe way—sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, a mouth that smiled rarely but commanded attention when it did.

He wore expensive casual clothes—tailored slacks and a crisp linen shirt—but somehow made them look like a uniform. There was something about him that suggested coiled power, like a general temporarily out of uniform but never truly off duty.

When he looked at Natalie, his expression softened fractionally, showing glimpses of the father she’d always known.

But when he turned that gaze on Hudson, it became something else entirely—calculating, dangerous, the eyes of a man who’d built an empire and wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anyone who threatened it.

“Natalie.” Her father moved around the desk. “I wasn’t expecting a visit from you this morning.”

“Dad, this is Timothy.” Natalie gestured to Hudson. “Timothy Shaw.”

Richard’s gaze sharpened on Hudson. “The man you met during your cooking class.”

So he had been keeping tabs on her. The knowledge shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did.

“Yes, sir.” Hudson extended his hand. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

Richard shook his hand but didn’t smile. “What’s going on?”

Natalie launched into the story they’d prepared. The beach. The romantic walk. The men appearing from nowhere, grabbing at her, demanding she come with them. Timothy fighting them off, getting her to safety.

Her father’s expression grew darker with each word.

This was where the rubber met the road, as the saying went.

Natalie hoped she could pull this off.

Natalie watched her father’s gaze darken with each new detail. “Did you call the police?”

“No, I was too scared. I just wanted to get somewhere safe.” Natalie let her voice shake slightly, which wasn’t hard given how close to the surface her real emotions were. “Dad, I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”

Richard’s jaw tightened. He stepped to his desk and pressed the intercom. “Margaret, get Dimitri up here. Now.”

Dimitri. Head of security.

This was exactly what they’d hoped for—her father pulling security closer, having conversations she could overhear.

“Mr. Ravenscroft, I want to assure you that Natalie’s safety is my top priority.” Hudson stiffened as he stood there. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Richard studied Hudson with the intensity of a man used to reading people, to identifying threats. “Tell me about yourself, Mr. Shaw. What is it you do, and how could you possibly keep her safe?”

“I’m a consultant,” Hudson said. “Business operations, efficiency analysis. I work with midsize companies looking to streamline their processes.”

“Which firm?”

“Mercy Analytics. It’s independent, which I find gives me more flexibility with clients.”

Natalie watched her father process Hudson’s statement, saw him memorizing every detail, every word.

Was he suspicious? Or just being a protective father?

“And how does that make you qualified to protect my daughter? How did you manage to fight off multiple attackers?” Richard’s tone sounded conversational, but Natalie heard the steel beneath it.

“Military training,” Hudson said. “I served in the Navy before moving into consulting. Some skills you never lose.”

“Navy.” Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What was your rank?”

“Operations Specialist. Nothing glamorous—radar, communications, that sort of thing.”

The lie came so easily, so convincingly. Something twisted in Natalie’s chest. This was what Hudson did. This was who he was—a man who could stand in front of her father and lie without a single tell.

“Timothy,” Natalie interrupted, “I’d like to talk to my father alone.”

Something flickered in Hudson’s expression—concern maybe, or calculation. But he nodded. “Of course. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

She didn’t respond, just watched him leave.

Because now came the hard part. Now she had to look her father in the eye and figure out if the man who’d raised her was the same man planning to kill thousands of innocent people.

And she had to do it without letting him see that she suspected a thing.

“Natalie,” her father said gently, moving closer. “Tell me what really happened.”

The concern in his voice sounded so genuine. So real.

But then again, so had Hudson’s.

And she’d learned the hard way that people who loved you could still destroy you with their lies.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.