Page 37 of Finally Found You

“I found a flaw.” My murmur is barely audible as my fingertips graze the edges of the disorganized stack of papers on the desk. The chaos of Lysander Spearman’s life is reflected in the disorder of his filing system.

Or lack thereof.

How could he possibly find anything in this mess?

The drawers overflow with a jumble of folders and documents, some yellowed with age, like relics from a long-ago past. I can’t help but wonder if it’s worth the effort to scan them into the digital world, or if it’s time to put them to rest in the shredder.

Lysander’s presence fills the room before I even see him, his confidence radiating like heat from the sun.

My heart stutters in my chest as I catch sight of him, dressed in a suit that seems to mold his body, rather than his typical jeans and a button-down shirt. His hair is tousled, as though he just ran his fingers through it, and his piercing eyes feel like they’re peeling away the layers of my soul. I force my gaze downward, the warmth of a blush creeping up my cheeks, betraying my thoughts.

“Hey, Cam,” he greets, his deep voice resonating through me, sending a surge of electricity up and down my spine. He glances at the mess of folders and raises an eyebrow. “What are you up to today?”

“Trying to figure out how you file your paperwork?” I reply, the question half joking, half serious.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Everything gets scanned, and the hard copies are sent to Spearman LP for storage.”

“Then what is this?” I gesture to the papers I’m attempting to sort, feeling the weight of their history. “Some of them date to the eighties.”

“Dad’s old files,” he admits softer, almost wistful. “I haven’t had the heart to get rid of them.”

“Oh,” is all I manage, my fingers hesitating before opening one of the folders. Inside, a weathered deed to a house captures my attention, and I can’t help but frown. “Who’s Esme Rivera-Lavigne?”

Lysander’s eyes narrow, a storm brewing within their depths as he extends his hand. The simple request for the folder opens an invisible chasm between us. “May I?”

I pass it to him, and as his eyes take in each paper, they widen in shock. “He knew. He knew about his daughter. Then why did he let…”

“What are we talking about?” I ask.

He clears his throat and speaks. “We have a new project.” He pauses, glancing at the folders scattered across the desk and the cabinets encircling the room. “I might have to call for help if we want to finish fast.”

“What’s happening?” I ask, confusion painting my words.

“My parents’ marriage wasn’t what we thought,” he explains. “Lately, we’ve discovered a few things about him. He once had a child outside of their marriage—Esme. Apparently, he bought a few properties under her name.”

“Had?”

He nods, his eyes clouded with a distant sadness. “She died in a car accident when she was two.”

“I’m sorry.” My heart aches for the baby who lost her life so early… and for him. It seems like there’s a storm brewing inside of him.

He pulls out his phone, gesturing at the folders with a determined tilt of his head. “Check each of them. If you find contracts, deeds, or… Just make an inventory of what you find.”

“We should scan them and file them appropriately. It’ll be easier to use them,” I suggest, offering a practical solution.

Lysander closes the space between us, his warm presence wrapping around me like an embrace, and kisses the top of my head. “You’re brilliant. I need to make a call.”

Once he leaves, I delve deeper into the files. As I work, a nagging question takes root in my mind: Is this part of why we have bodyguards? Could Esme’s mother be trying to claim her inheritance?

My pulse quickens, a shiver crawls up my spine, and the weight of what these folders might hold bearing down on this family settles on my chest. Should I take Kenzy away?

Chapter Nineteen

Lysander

I lock myself in my office before making the first call. The walls of my office close in on me as I try to process what we just found. This should give me answers, but I have a thousand questions instead. And, of course, my father is not here to answer any of them.

“She might’ve found some of the documents we’ve been looking for,” I say when Aslan answers the phone.

---