Chapter Eight.

The ache in Celine’s stomach felt like a drill was at work in there. She was aware of the reason behind that. Pure dread. Fear.

The metal spoons slipped from her sweaty palms and clattered on the table. She sat up straight, and hoped beyond anything that the panic she was feeling was absent from her face.

“what are you talking about?”

The question sounded wrong even to her own ears. Williams’ face, that strikingly handsome face, was as calm as ever. As if he had just told her about the weather, and not about the beginning of the end of her life.

He speared a piece of chicken with his fork and with as much casualness, drew it into his mouth. He even thought it best to take another sip from his mug before fixing those golden eyes on her as he spoke.

“Celine Winston didn’t exist until a year ago.” His face hardened. “Who are you?”

A mighty blow struck her chest. It was over. He knew everything. Every terrible thing from her life before.

He was the wealthiest man in the world. He had all