Billionaire's Second Chance At Love

Chapter Fifty

[TWO WEEKS LATER]

"Remember," Grandpa Edgar spoke gently, as he turned to find Carmen staring out the car window. "Carmen?"

Gently, he placed a hand on hers, wanting to break whatever thought bubble she had slipped into.

Carmen jerked out of her thoughts, her eyes snapping to meet his. "Yes. Sorry, I was just...thinking. Uh, you were saying?"

Grandpa smiled, retrieving his hand. "Actually, I'm done talking. I think now we should just take a deep breath and let things roll on their own."

"Sounds like a plan," she mumbled, leaning back into the seat. "But it's obviously easier said than done. What if I do something stupid? What if instead of catching the bad guys I end up spooking them and they come after us? It can all go to hell in just a matter of time. I mean, am I—"

"Carmen," he turned slightly to face her. "I'm not going to tell you that your fears are irrational, because honestly, the chances of this going south are considerably higher. But that's the point. That's why we have a plan in the works. We are not going into this blindly. We are prepared. All you have to do is play your part and find out the truth. Once inside this building, trust becomes a rare commodity. All you have is you. Do you understand?"

Carmen inhaled a deep breath, nodding. "Yes."

"Good." He kissed her forehead, patting her head. "You have no idea how much this means to me. I will never be able to put it into words."

"You don't have to," she spoke despite the nervousness prickling her skin. "I'm doing this willingly. I want to find out who did this to Willow, and I want them behind bars. It's just that...everything depends so much on me, and how I do inside...what if I mess it up? I don't want to but what if I do?"

"Darling, it's okay to be nervous. Even the most accomplished people in the world know all about sweaty palms and a swirl of nerves. But you know what sets them apart?" He sighed, a gentle smile on his face. "They regard nerves as part of the process. An essential warm-up that everyone, whether they're an artist or not, experiences before their big moment. It doesn't matter if you're on a massive stage or in a low-key setting; once they step into the spotlight, all they see is a chance to make an impact."

Carmen knew he was right. She was nervous, sure, but being nervous wasn't exactly a bad thing. Besides, now they had all the help they would need. This was going to work. She had to make it work. Not only for Willow's sake, but also for herself. Lots of people were depending on her, and she was depending on the successful outcome of this.

"I suppose that makes sense," she brushed a few curls out of her face, rolled her shoulders to ease the tension, and took a final look at the towering building outside—the same one that still seemed imposing from her memory. "Alright. Let's get this done."

* * *

The sound of black leather heels echoed on the polished floor as Carmen confidently entered the building, the doors opening smoothly as she approached. The morning sunlight streamed in through the tall glass windows, casting her in a spotlight of confidence and boldness, setting the stage for the impression she was about to make.

Her impeccably tailored charcoal-grey pantsuit radiated authority and sophistication, perfectly hugging her figure. The jacket, with its sleek cut, highlighted her shoulders without overpowering her frame. Its lapels framed her face elegantly, drawing attention to her expressive neutral-toned eyes and the subtle curve of her lips, which held a self-assured smile.