Chapter 17
Tanner’s face darkened. He had Mona in his arms–she was already his. But then Waylon had to show up again, just like before.
He was irritated, but no fool.
Picking a fight with Waylon over a woman would be suicidal–especially on his turf. If things turned physical, he wouldn’t win.
After a long pause, Tanner finally released her.
Mona immediately ducked behind Waylon, putting him between her and Tanner like a human shield.
Tanner forced a smile. “Well, since you and Ms. Morse have plans, I won’t get in your way.‘
He stepped in close, leaned down, and murmured in her ear, “I’m already looking forward to our next meeting.”
His breath was hot against her skin, but it made Mona break out in a cold
sweat.
Waylon gave Tanner a polite nod, then turned and got back into the car.
Mona hurried in after him. The doors shut behind them, and warm air rushed over her chilled skin. She shivered, heart still pounding.
Only now did her brain finally catch up–and she remembered what she’d shouted outside the car
“Mr. Haley.”
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He gave her a gentle smile. “Let’s go somewhere quiet to talk.”
His tone was soft, his face pleasant, utterly unthreatening.
But Mona could still feel it–the subtle pressure of someone used to being obeyed. His authority didn’t need volume. It was instinctive, quiet, and absolute.
“Yes, sir,” she said automatically. “I’ll follow your lead.”
The car glided away from the bustling city and headed toward the coast. Traffic thinned. The buildings fell away. Soon, they were the only car on
the road.
Their destination: Maple Island–the most mysterious, exclusive area in the entire city.
That was when it hit her. She turned to Waylon beside her, eyes wide. “You. you live on Maple Island?”
“I do,” Waylon replied with a mild smile, calm as ever.
And in that moment, it all clicked.
There was only one person who lived on that island: the current head of the Haley family–the richest man in the empire.
Before Mona went to prison, the Haley family patriarch had been someone else.
The family’s heir had always been a mystery. His identity, background, even his name had been kept tightly under wraps. The outside world knew nothing.
Which was why it had never crossed her mind that this man–this soft- spoken, elegantly dressed “Mr. Haley“-was that man.
Chapter17
The legendary tycoon said to move markets with a word. A man so powerful his whims could shape the fate of entire industries.
And right now, he was sitting beside her.
Mona’s heart raced. This is insane,‘ she thought.
No wonder Tanner was so polite every time he saw him. You’d have to be out of your mind to cross a man like this.
She felt her hands start to tremble.
Ten minutes later, the car turned onto the island and pulled up to the gates of the only villa in sight.
An elderly butler was already waiting at the entrance. As the car rolled to a stop, he hurried over to open the door.
“Welcome home, sir-”
He cut himself off mid–sentence when he saw Mona in the backseat. For a
brief moment, he froze in surprise.
Then he quickly composed himself, shielding the car’s roof with one hand as he turned to her and said respectfully. “Miss, please–this way.”
Mona stepped out of the car and gave the butler a slight nod.
Waylon exited from the other side and said to the butler, “This is Ms. Morse.”
The butler returned the nod politely. “Ms. Morse, good evening. I’m Omar Nichols, the steward of Maple Villa. Please let me know if you need anything.”
“Nice to meet you, Omar.” Mona could tell right away–Omar wasn’t just a
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butler. She didn’t dare be careless.
Waylon turned to her and said gently, “Make yourself at home. No need. to be formal.”
“Yes, sir.” Mona followed him inside..
As the doors opened, two rows of maids in matching uniforms stood on either side of the grand entrance, perfectly aligned.
“Welcome home, sir,” they greeted in unison, bowing with impeccable
grace.
Omar followed behind them and asked, “Sir, should we prepare a guest room for Ms. Morse, or would you prefer the adjoining suite next to yours?”
Waylon turned back to Mona. “Guest room. Unless Ms. Morse prefers otherwise?”
“The guest room is fine.” Only then did Mona realize–she’d somehow. agreed to stay the night.
Waylon led her into the study.
It was traditional and elegant. A small rock garden with a fountain, a quiet coffee area, and a massive wood desk that looked like it belonged in a museum. On the wall hung a bold and sweeping painting.
There wasn’t a single book on the shelves, yet the room carried the gravity of a scholar’s sanctuary.
