Not warmly.
Not playfully.
Coldly.
“Then maybe you should learn to listen to me.”
I stared at the monitor.
And suddenly everything Chloe had told me the previous night looked completely different.
The missing jewelry.
The money.
The perfume.
The accusations against Marisol.
The warnings that my daughters were becoming “too attached” to her.
Marisol wasn’t turning my daughters against anyone.
She had been protecting them.
And Chloe clearly wanted her gone.
What I still didn’t understand was why.
I remained in that security room, watching the woman I was supposed to marry behave like a stranger inside my own home.
And I knew one thing with absolute certainty.
The Toronto trip was over.
Because I wasn’t going anywhere.
Not until I discovered exactly what Chloe had been doing when she thought I would never see it.
