The Lost Daughter

CHAPTER FIVE.

Before long, I'm grabbing a towel from the wall and stepping out. I fiddle with the control panel a bit more to turn it off.

I ring my hair and fluff the towel over it to dry it as much as I can before getting dressed, crumpling my pajamas from the night before to shove to the bottom of my suitcase again.

When that's done, I stand in the middle of the bedroom uselessly. I'm looking around but not examining anything in full, really just stalling for more time before I go find everyone else, and wishing Weston was up here to guide me.

I catch sight of the french doors on the far wall again and start padding over to them, turning one of the knobs and opening it unhurriedly.

It's a balcony, and the view takes my breath away.

I walk up to the curved white stone railing and put my hands on it to lean over slightly, trying to absorb all of it, my mouth hanging open in awe.

Directly below is a beautiful, enormous pool, surrounded by chaises and other sitting areas in clusters. On one side the pool flows into a grotto built up with big stone slabs, another runs into an area hidden by an overhang of the house.

Beyond that, there's gardens and lush green grass with some palm trees dotting the landscape. It's an unbelievable sight.

I end up sitting on one of the sofas that are on the balcony, just thinking about how much everything has changed in such a short amount of time. If I was back home, in Washington, I'd have been at work for hours already. Trying to earn enough to survive. And now I'm here.

I don't know how long I'm out there, but it's enough time that my hair is almost completely dry, hanging straight down my back.

Eventually, I work up the nerve I need to leave. I take small steps across the room to the door, peeking around when I open it to see if anyone is in the hallway.

I don't see anyone, so I take a few more tentative steps forward and then more confident the longer I don't encounter anyone.

I try to backtrack the route Weston took me from the kitchen, getting turned around a few times before finally finding the two staircases leading to the entryway.

As I'm reaching the bottom, the front door opens and I freeze in my steps.

A man walks in, probably about as old as my father, but still handsome. He has medium-brown hair and he's wearing another expensive looking charcoal suit.

He scans the foyer quickly before his eyes land on me, flicking up and down my body and then locking on mine; a smile that's probably supposed to be charming sliding onto his face.

Instantly, I don't like him.

He has a calculating gleam lurking in his eyes, like he's figuring out how he could use me to his own gain.

"You must be Willa." The man says to me, no question in his voice. Just stating a fact that I don't bother to respond to.

"Well, look how beautiful you turned out to be." He continues anyway, nothing complimentary in his voice at all, just the same conniving look that makes shivers want to start crawling down my spine.

My eyes goes hard. I've heard similar things from the men my mother brought around me and I didn't take it well then, either. "Should I know you?" I grit out.

A spark of amusement lights up his face, like he didn't expect me that from me. "Sebastian Knight, I work with your father." He tells me.

The name isn't familiar, but I figure this must be the business partner Weston mentioned last night. "So no, then." I state blankly.