Page 23 of The Prince's Secret Daughter
“I mean,” she started, then paused to look around. “Well, this place doesn’t show any evidence of homeless people sleeping here, or teenagers using the building as a hangout for drunken parties.”
“Good point,” Raj replied. He turned to his bodyguard. “Do you think that has anything to do with the person we saw earlier?”
Nazir nodded slowly. “It’s possible. The men I sent to look for the guy reported back that they weren’t able to find him. Whoever was out there, he disappeared pretty quickly.”
Raj nodded. “The man probably knows all of the hiding places in this dump.” He turned to Helen. “I think we have enough information to determine that, whatever the Grishoms were trying to pull, it must have links to illegal activities.”
“I agree,” Helen replied, looking away so that she could concentrate. “I do most of my best work on a computer. Why don’t I head back to my office and I can–”
“No!” Raj snapped before she could even finish her sentence, shaking his head as he sliced a hand through the air. “No matter what’s going on, you’re not going back to that office.” He moved closer to her, gripping her upper arms with his hands. “Helen, they tried to drug us yesterday. They successfully drugged my accountant and attorney. Both of which are still trying to recover. They have vicious headaches from whatever was in the coffee yesterday so, no. You’re not safe in that office.”
She looked up into his eyes, her heart melting at the concern she saw there.
“You’re right,” she replied, and saw his shoulders relax slightly. “I won’t go to the office.” She smiled at him and took a step closer, then stopped, remembering her confusion over the future. “I’ll go to my condo and pick up my laptop. I can do my research on my personal computer.”
Again, he shook his head. “I don’t want anyone connecting your condo’s ISP address to your home. Why don’t you use one of the computers at the hotel?” He turned to Nazir. “We have ISP scramblers, right?”
The man nodded his head. “Absolutely. If you use one of the security computers to do your research, I guarantee that no one will be able to trace where you are.”
Helen licked her lips. “Is there really that much danger?” she asked, feeling nervous. Then she looked around. “Don’t answer that,” she said, lifting her hand up when Raj drew breath to answer. “The whole presentation yesterday was a fabricated lie. This building and the façade that you uncovered tells me Nathan and Paul were trying to scam you. And we just found a cache of weapons that must have been used during a crime.”
“I’m guessing that everything comes down to money with those two,” Raj replied. “In my world, a lot of answers come down to greed.”
She looked around, nodding her agreement. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” When her eyes focused back on Raj, her lips were tight with determination. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I brought you into this mess and I’m going to get you out of it, Raj.”
He stepped closer, taking her hands. “You didn’t bring me into any of this,” he argued. “I didn’t even know that you worked at the firm until you walked into the conference room yesterday.”
Helen wanted to move in closer, to seek the warmth of his reassurance. Instead, she squeezed his fingers, then pulledback, not wanting him to know how desperately she wanted to snuggle up against him, to feel his strong arms wrap around her.
“Let’s head back. I don’t know what Angela is doing, but it’s almost lunchtime. We could be back at the hotel in time to eat with her.”
Chapter 19
“She’s not answering her phone!” Nathan snapped, his voice sharp and filled with frustration as he stormed into his father’s office that night after everyone had gone home. His frustrated footsteps echoed as he paced across the office floor, a reflection of his impatience.
Paul barely glanced up from his desk, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual authority. He folded his hands together in front of him, watching Nathan with a look of quiet amusement. The tension in the room was palpable, but Paul’s expression remained calm—unmoved. He had seen this before: his son’s impulsive irritation, the sense of being unmoored when things didn’t go according to Nathan’s expectations. It was a familiar dance.
Nathan’s frustration only seemed to grow with each passing second. “Helen was supposed to be distracting and seducing our client,” he snarled, his tone edged with disbelief, as though the plan should have been foolproof. “But she should have checked in by now!” He paced in small, impatient circles, running a hand through his hair. “I thought we had this in the bag.”
Paul’s lips twitched ever so slightly, the hint of a smile forming, though he kept it subdued.Such impatience, Paul thought. It was one of Nathan’s weaknesses. Nathan might have the physical stature of a man who thought he could control a room, but his emotional volatility made him an easy target for manipulation. Paul had spent years cultivating the ability to read people, to understand their motivations, to know when to pushand when to pull back. His son, on the other hand, still had much to learn.
"I thought that Helen was seducing and distracting our client," Paul said slowly, his voice laced with an edge of mockery, as though he were humoring Nathan’s impatience.
Nathan glared at him, his jaw tightening. “You and I both know that a man can only be interested in a woman for so long.” He snorted, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “No one, not even Helen, can distract a man like Prince Al-Sintra forever.”
Paul watched him with a quiet satisfaction, letting the weight of his son’s frustration settle in the space between them. Nathan didn’t get it. He was too wrapped up in the idea that the plan had failed because of some uncontrollable factor—because a woman’s charms had a limited shelf life. What he didn’t understand was that the real control wasn’t in the distractions. It was in the manipulation, the timing, and the leverage.
"Plus, there was the call from the man you had watching the site earlier,” Paul said, his tone still cool. “He mentioned something about a group of people snooping around.”
Nathan froze, his face darkening as the reality of the situation began to sink in. He hadn’t anticipated this, hadn’t fully accounted for the risks. His eyes flicked back toward Paul, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “What the hell does that mean?”
Paul leaned forward slightly, just enough to make his presence known, but not enough to appear eager or desperate. “It means that someone else is getting too close to the truth. And now, we’ve got to figure out how to cover our tracks.”
Nathan clenched his fists, his frustration now tinged with a flicker of panic. Paul allowed himself a moment to savor his son’s unease. Nathan had always been too open with his emotions, too obvious in his reactions. It was an unfortunate flaw, especially when you were in the business of deception. He needed to learn how to mask those impulses, to control his reactions better.
Paul’s gaze softened slightly, but the thoughts swirling in his mind were anything but tender. He had built his empire on deception—fake smiles, hidden agendas, and the art of making people believe they were getting a good deal when, in reality, they were being swindled. It was how he’d made his living selling cars that were practically scrap metal, selling the dream to the desperate and gullible. He had perfected the hopeful expression—the one that made a mark believe they were getting the best deal of their life, even as they drove off with a ticking time bomb of a vehicle that would soon break down.
He’d also learned something even more valuable: trust no one. Not even family.
