Page 53 of Her Ex's Father
Regina arrives precisely on time, as she always does, her heels sharp against the stone floors of the meeting suite. She is efficient, poised, Milan in human form—dark hair in a sleek knot, tailored navy suit, perfume like crisp linen and spice.
“Benedict,” she says with a quick smile, shaking my hand. “Aspen suits you. Though I think Milan misses you.”
“Then Milan should run more smoothly.”
Her laugh is soft, unoffended. She lays a folder on the table, slides into the chair opposite me. We go through numbers, projections, staff reports. She’s good—sharp enough to notice the cracks before they widen. Milan is one of my favorite locations, and as the business talk pushes more recent anxieties to the back of my mind, I think that I’ll have to go back soon.
Halfway through, she glances up, a spark in her eyes. “I heard something interesting. Your wife solved the scheduling debacle, didn’t she?”
I arch a brow. “News travels fast.”
“Hospitality is a small world.” Regina shrugs elegantly. “And your property managers, we all talk. She streamlined the event calendar in a week. My managers are still talking about it. They were… impressed.”
I don’t answer immediately. Images flash in my mind—Maddie bent over ledgers, determination carved into her brow, her optimism carrying her through when others faltered.
“She has a knack for it,” I admit. “She was the event coordinator for Crown & Range. I’m sure that by now, they’re feeling her absence.”
“She has more than a knack,” Regina counters. “She has instinct. You should consider bringing her in for Aspen. Or Milan. Or any location that needs help, really. Events, weddings, conferences—she could manage them better than half your staff.”
The thought lodges deep. Maddie—permanently in the business. Not just a wife hidden behind my shadow, but part of the empire. Part of me.
It makes a dangerous kind of sense.
But then another thought follows, souring the sweetness: Derrick.
He’s still here, and I don’t know why. Still haunting the edges of the resort, as if tethered by some invisible cord. He’s never lingered this long before. Never cared to. And now, when I’ve told him plainly that there’s nothing left for him, he refuses to leave.
Why?
What is he waiting for?
I shut the folder and lean back. “It’s an idea worth considering,” I tell Regina. “I’ll talk to her about it. I’m not sure she’d be able to make time for it.”
But I don’t promise. Not yet. There’s a baby on the way, after all, and soon enough the world will know.
There’s also a feeling settling in my gut—a warning. Until Derrick is gone, nothing is safe.
That night, Maddie curls into the sofa in her suite, Stella beside her, both laughing over some story from their college days. Their voices float through the half-open door to my study, bright and full of life.
I should go to her. I should tell her about Regina’s suggestion, about the way she impressed people halfway across the world and my belief that she could run this company at my side, competently. She would light up with it. She deserves to know.
But the thought of Derrick lurking in the shadows of the resort, waiting, watching—it’s enough to keep the words locked behind my teeth. This lodge has been my safe place ever since Georgiana passed. Tainted with her, yes, but buried in the woods it’s easier to breathe.
Now, I’m not sure what to expect; I never thought a threat would come from inside my family.
There’s a light knock on the door, and Caroline appears. She slips into the room and closes the door behind her, shutting out the laughter.
“To what do I owe this visit?” I ask solemnly, leaning back.
She snorts. Caroline knows she’s always welcome here, but she prefers the cottage our father built for guests decades ago. She and Leo live quietly there as she manages the condos that Bronson Hall also owns, a lesser side of the business that I never have to think about thanks to my sister.
“I wanted to check on you.”
My eyes narrow. “I’m fine, little sister. Don’t worry; this isn’t anything I can’t handle.”
Caroline’s lips thin. She sits across from me, and that’s when I know this is serious. “I know what you can handle, Benedict. When Georgiana passed away, you handled the rumors. You handled the funeral and your grief.”
There’s a pause, a lack of elaboration:You handled Derrick’s grief.
