The Billionaire and the Girl in the Shadows (S.E. Smith Signature Romance: Heart & Soul #3)

Prologue

Sixteen Years Ago

Jakarta, Indonesia – Late Afternoon

The air was thick with heat and the scent of fried noodles, diesel, and the smoke of nearby cooking fires. Motorbikes roared outside the protective, concrete walls.

In the yard of the orphanage, children shrieked and laughed as they darted barefoot across the cracked pavement, chasing a half-deflated soccer ball in the late afternoon sunlight.

Tension coiled in the pit of Kiki’s belly as she watched them. She had only been at the orphanage a few weeks and didn’t really know the other kids very well.

She stood near the edge of the group in the shade of a palm tree, her colorful t-shirt bright against the dusty gray wall behind her.

The flowers on the front were faded, the fabric stretched at the collar, but she liked this shirt.

Looking at it brought her comfort. The flowers on it reminded her of her mother—once bright and beautiful.

Her shorts were too big, cinched with a bit of string, but Kiki didn’t care about that. Her plastic sandals made a slap-slap sound whenever she ran, a sound she associated with giggles and the rush of the wind, almost like she could be flying if not for the sound against the ground.

She turned when a woman in a black robe stepped into the courtyard and looked around before locking on her. She took in the sight of Sister Maryna’s unsmiling face with a maturity far beyond her six years. Something terrible and uncertain settled in her gut.

“Kiki,” the nun called softly, motioning.

Kiki blinked up at her. Her pulse fluttered.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, child, but I need you to come with me.”

A cold thread of fear slid down her spine. Kids who went into the office didn’t always come back. They left in cars with strangers.

“I don’t want to,” Kiki whispered, shaking her head.

But the nun reached for her arm.

“Come now,” Sister Maryna said in a stern voice.

Kiki tried to bolt, but the nun gripped her wrist firmly and pulled her through the open archway.

She bit her lip while tears burned in her eyes.

She always tried to behave. She never complained—not after what happened to her mama.

Mama had warned her she had to be good or the bad men would find her.

“I don’t want to go,” Kiki cried out, struggling as Sister Maryna dragged her through a second, smaller courtyard toward the forbidden room.

As they approached the door, a wave of panic washed over her, and she felt a chilling sense of dread. She lashed out with her free hand—not in anger, but instinct—and clamped down on Sister Maryna’s wrist.

Sister Maryna released a startled cry and stumbled back, clutching her arm like it burned. The nun’s eyes were wide as she jerked away from her.

Kiki recognized the emotions flicking across the nun’s face. It was the same look the men who’d hurt her mama had on their faces when they stared at her.

Fear. Disbelief. Confusion. Horror.

Kiki blinked, crying harder. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

The door to the forbidden room slammed open.

“Kiki!”

A man in black robes strode across the dusty courtyard.

Tall, grim, with a collar tight at his throat and a silver crucifix glinting at his chest. Father Bishop was the man the children whispered about when the lights went out. Some said he had once been a soldier. Others said he had no shadow.

She knew who he was. He was the man her mother had trusted.

He dropped to his knees in front of her.

“You must listen to me, Kiki,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “You must go with Sister Anne now. Right now. She will take very good care of you. Do you understand?”

Her lower lip trembled. She sniffled and nodded.

He turned his head. “Sister Anne!”

A younger woman in a gray habit stepped forward from the shadows just inside the breezeway. Her face was pale, her hands shaking.

Kiki looked up at her. “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” she mumbled.

Sister Anne offered her a small, trembling smile. “I know, sweet one. You didn’t.”

Sister Anne lifted Kiki into her arms, cuddling her petite body against her. She was turning away when a sound behind them made her expression change. Her smile disappeared, replaced with horror.

Kiki looked back the way she had come.

The laughter had been replaced with shouts and terrified screams. The rat-tat-tat of gunfire echoed through the courtyard archway.

Sister Maryna whispered fearfully to Sister Anne to hurry while Father Bishop spun toward the orphanage entrance. Two men in camouflage burst through the open doorway, their rifles raised.

“You know what to do. Keep her safe at all costs,” Father Bishop ordered.

Kiki clung to Sister Anne’s neck, crying as the novice nun turned and sprinted for the side door. She watched in horror as the men swung their weapons toward Father Bishop.

“No…” she whispered.

Something inside her flared. Bad things happened when it did. She didn’t know what it was. Only that she wanted to protect him.

Her small hand lifted. Trembling fingers stretched outward—then closed. So did her eyes. With a sob, she buried her face against Sister Anne’s neck.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over.

Behind them, the world fell silent.

No more gunshots.

No more screams.

Only the slap of Sister Anne’s sandals as she bolted through the gate behind the orphanage and rushed toward a waiting car. The back door was already open. A man in the driver’s seat waved them in.

Silent tears tracked down Kiki’s cheeks. Her heart hurt. So did her head. She raised her eyes to the rear window and looked out as they sped away.

Father Bishop stood framed in the orphanage doorway, his black robes fluttering, unharmed. His face was grim… and pale.

He raised a hand in farewell.

Kiki pressed her palm to the glass—small, solemn, and lost—as the car turned the corner.

Her mama’s warnings echoed in her head. The bad men had found her, just like she said they would if anyone learned how special she was.