Page 22 of Keeping Her Secrets

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Mustique didn’t realize she was doing it until Ash had pointed it out, but he was right, she was avoiding Craven. It was silly, really, but every time she looked at the older woman, she felt a sense of loss, of what might have been for her, and it hurt. Mustique didn’t want to feel that pain or vulnerability ever again. Having Ash with her might be a good buffer, but for some reason, he saw the real her.

He saw what nobody else did—the scared girl she tried to hide from everyone, even herself. She knew he would see through her act and know something was very wrong, and he would push and push until he got the truth from her, but what choice did she have? Once again, she was backed into a corner, and the only person who would get hurt was her.

The alternative wasn’t an option, and she would walk through fire and into the jaws of hell to stop that happening. So, as they pulled up outside the senator’s home, she slid on her glasses, took a deep breath, and let Mustique the assassin lead the way. She would either come out of there intact or shredded so badly she would never be able to put herself back together again.

The house was part of a private, gated community, and they’d had to show ID to get in. Ian Sawyer had come through and gotten them an appointment to meet with the senator today. Trident had stepped up, and she would always owe them for that, but it was a marker she was happy for them to hold.

Ash whistled as they approached the house. “This must have cost a chunk of change.”

It was a luxury, two-story, six-bedroom home with a pool, cinema room, and bar. The senator also had a home office that she was currently using since learning of the threat to her daughter.

A guard opened the door and checked their IDs again before escorting them past a grand entryway with a sweeping staircase, toward the back of the house. Mustique couldn’t hear anyone else in the house and prayed it was just them and the security team. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as the guard, who was five feet ten inches and built like a bulldog, knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

He opened the door and led them in as Kate Craven strode toward them with an open and friendly smile on her face. Her cream skirt suit was pristine, as was her matching blouse. She looked every inch the successful senator, but Mustique hardly noticed, her gaze focused on the teenage girl behind her.

Mustique felt her pulse race, her skin prickle with sweat, and her breathing was shallow to the point her vision began to swim.

Ash grabbed her arm, gently drawing her attention. “Mari, are you okay?”

Mustique swallowed and thanked God she still had her shades on. “Yes, sorry. I’m fine.”

Kate Craven looked at her quizzically, and she could feel Ash’s eyes boring into her from the side. But she could hardly look away from the teen who was oblivious to them as she played on her phone.

“Senator Craven, thank you for meeting with us. I’m Ash and this is Mustique. Is there somewhere where we can talk in private?” Ash indicated the girl, and finally, Mustique pulled herself together and focused on why they were here. Slipping her glasses from her face she tucked them in her jacket. Losing focus would result in a disaster she could not allow.

“Yes, of course.” The senator turned to her daughter, and Mustique watched the exchange. “Leonie, can we finish this after lunch? I need to take this meeting.” The teen looked up, and Mustique felt her breath catch as eyes that she would remember to her dying day met hers.

The eyes of her child, the one that had been stolen from her when she was little more than a child herself. Leonie Van Der Byl, her daughter.

They stayed frozen in time as they studied each other, mother and child. It was a connection that should never be severed, but it had been, and Leonie wasn’t hers anymore. That didn’t stop the bone-deep desire to love her or protect her, and that meant keeping her safe and staying away from her.

Kate Craven was a wonderful mother and role model, and Mari would be grateful until her last breath that the senator had raised Leonie. In truth, it was more than Mari could have ever given her. It didn’t stop the pain though, or the memories. It was only seconds but felt like more before the teen turned away and smiled at her real mom, the only one she’d ever known.

“Sure. Can I go for a swim?”

“Of course, but make sure you use sunscreen.” Kate nodded indulgently at her daughter as she sashayed out of the room with a final shy grin for her and Ash, although the look Leonie gave Ash was more flirtatious than the one she gave her. Mustique laughed inwardly guessing the adage “like mother, like daughter” was true.

“Sorry, I kept her home today with the threat; she normally has ballet class on a Sunday.” Kate Craven was well aware that they knew of the threat, an introduction from Ian paving the way for them.

“That’s okay, Senator Craven,” Ash said as she showed them to a small sectional in the corner of the large office.

“Tell me what you have. Ian Sawyer said you might have more information on the threat to my daughter?” The woman was brisk and matter of fact, but it struck Mustique she wasn’t unfriendly, rather she was worried and juggling way too many plates.

“We received information that a member of your party is being blackmailed. For some reason, the target is your daughter.” Mustique watched her closely and saw the tell-tale swallow as she took in the blow.

“I shouldn’t be surprised; this business is the underbelly of the world.”

“Why do you do it then?” Mustique asked before she could stop herself.

Kate Craven locked eyes with her. “If not me, then who? How can I teach my daughter that women can make a difference in the world if I don’t stand behind my words and do it? I never planned to go into politics, but when my husband died, they asked me to run for his seat and I won. Now I go to sleep at night knowing the sacrifices I make help others.”

“It’s very noble, Senator Craven,” Ash stated.

“Oh, I have no wish to be noble,” she huffed with a humorless laugh. “I just refuse to bow down to bullies, and men like Robert Hanley would love nothing more than to see me fail. I assume it’s him we’re talking about?”