Page 33 of Penalty Kiss
Recognition flickers in his eyes—not of me, but of the name. Of course he'd know it. Anyone who reads financial news or gossip magazines would.
"The Delacroix family," he says slowly. "As in Delacroix Industries."
I nod miserably. "As in billions of dollars and more dysfunction than a reality TV show."
"You're—"
"Rich. Yes. Stupidly, ridiculously rich." The words taste bitter. "I have access to accounts with more zeros than most people see in a lifetime."
He's quiet for a long moment, processing. When he speaks, his voice is careful. "But you're working as a waitress."
"Because I ran away." The admission comes out in a rush. "Right after I graduated from college three years ago, I packed a bag and disappear from my family. New name, new life, new me. I've been moving from town to town ever since, staying one step ahead of my father's investigators."
"Why?"
The simple question unlocks something in me. All the fear, all the anger, all the desperate longing for a life that's actually mine.
"Because my father doesn't see me as a daughter," I say, surprised by the steadiness of my own voice. "He sees me as an asset. A business tool. And I hate it.”
I pause, searching for the right words. “The first secret is my name and wealth. But the bigger one?”
I draw a breath and watch Cam.
“I don’t just have a good memory. I have eidetic memory. Perfect recall. He’s been grooming me since childhood to use it for the family business.”
Cam's eyes widen slightly, but he doesn't interrupt.
"Every board meeting I attended, every document I read, every conversation I overheard—he expected me to remember it all. To be his living, breathing recording device." My hands clench into fists. "He had my entire life planned out. Who I'd marry, what role I'd play in the company, how my children would fit into his empire."
"That’s insane," Cam breathes.
"Cedar Falls was supposed to be another temporary stop," I continue, the words flowing like water through a broken dam. "But then I got here, and for the first time in my life, I felt... normal. People liked me for who I am, not for my last name, not for what I could do for them. I thought I could stay. I thought I was safe. I could breathe."
"The man in the alley," Cam says, pieces clicking together.
I nod. "He called me Taralyn. He said my father wants me home." I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the morning warmth. "I'm not just being followed by some random creep, Cam. I'm being hunted by one of the most powerful families in the country."
The silence stretches between us, heavy with the weight of my confession. I watch his face, waiting for the moment when he realizes what he's gotten himself into. When he understands that protecting me means going up against people who could destroy his career, his life, everything he's worked for.
But instead of backing away, he steps closer.
“There’s more,” Cam says, voice low. Not a question.
I shift, uneasy. “It’s just… different this time. Normally my father’s people don’t grab. They watch. They report. Maybe they make my life inconvenient enough that I pack up and move on. But alley ambushes? That’s new.”
Cam leans back against the counter, still bare-chested, still too close, studying me like he’s reading between my words. “So what would make it different?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe that guy just got overzealous?”
“Or,” he says carefully, “maybe it wasn’t your father’s guys at all. What if he only wanted you to think that? Is there someone else who’d benefit from you being scared—or gone?”
The question lodges under my skin. My mouth opens, closes. “I… I don’t know.”
But the truth is, I do. The thought is there, pulsing like a bruise I’ve been pressing on for years. I’ve just never said it out loud.
A chill crawls up my spine, and a name surfaces, the one I keep buried. “My cousin. Lucien.” The syllables taste like rust. “It would explain why the game changed.”
Cam doesn’t interrupt. His gaze sharpens, steady and unreadable, giving me space to keep talking.
