Chapter 10

Elena’s POV

Jonathan’s eyes were fixed on me. His gaze was intense, like he wanted to get all my reaction. It was a little unnerving and it was adding to my stress but I had to force myself to calm down and think.

His phone was still pressed to his ear, but he wasn’t speaking anymore. Just staring at me with that annoying unreadable expression.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, setting down my fork.

He lowered the phone slowly, his jaw tight. “I have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

“My son.” The words came out flat, almost emotionless. “We haven’t seen each other in about five years. He’s at the gate now.”

My stomach dropped.

Daniel.

Daniel was here. Right now. On the other side of that gate.

I forced myself to keep breathing, to keep my expression neutral even though my heart was suddenly racing.

“Should I let him in?” Jonathan asked, and there was something in the way he said it… I stared at him, my mind spinning in a thousand different directions.

If I said no, he’d wonder why. He’d ask questions I couldn’t answer. He might even suspect that I knew Daniel, that there was history between us, and that would blow everything.

But if I said yes…

If I said yes, Daniel would walk through that door and see me sitting at his father’s dinner table. He’d recognize me instantly. And then what? Would he say something? Would he tell Jonathan about our past? Would he ruin everything I’d been working toward?

“Elena?” Jonathan’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Should I let him in?”

I swallowed hard. “I should probably go. You two should have time to reconnect. It’s been five years, after all.”

“We still have a lot to do,” he said, but there was a question in his tone, like he was waiting to see what I’d say.

I frowned. “You said your housekeeper already packed everything.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. “But there are always… other things.”

What the hell was he playing at?

One minute he was telling me there was nothing to do, and the next he was implying I needed to stay. It didn’t make sense.

Unless he was testing me. But why would he?

“It’s fine,” I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt. “Let him in. I don’t mind.”

He studied me for another moment, then nodded. He lifted the phone and said something to security I couldn’t quite hear.

Then he hung up and set the phone on the table.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes,” he said calmly, picking up his wine glass like nothing had changed.

I picked up my fork and tried to eat, but the food tasted like cardboard. My hands were steady, but my mind was racing, counting down the seconds until Daniel walked through that door.

What would I say? What would he say? How the hell was I going to get through this without everything falling apart?

I heard it before I saw it…the low rumble of an engine, the crunch of gravel under tires.

He was here.

“You know,” he said casually, “not everyone enjoys meeting strangers. If you’d prefer, you can wait upstairs in my study. No need to sit through an awkward family reunion.”

Relief flooded through me so fast I almost laughed.

“That’s probably best,” I said, standing quickly. “Where’s the study?”

“Top of the stairs, first door on the left.”

I didn’t wait for him to say anything else. I grabbed my purse and headed for the stairs, my heels clicking against the hardwood as I climbed.

Behind me, I heard the front door open, Daniel's voice was as loud and arrogant as I remembered.

“Took you long enough to let me in. What, are you screening visitors now?”

I didn’t hear Jonathan’s response. I was already at the top of the stairs, slipping into the study and closing the door behind me.

I leaned against the door, exhaling slowly.

“I need money, Dad. A lot of it. And before you start lecturing me about responsibility…”

I stopped listening.

I didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to be reminded of who he was, of how easily he’d thrown me away.

Instead, I turned and looked around the study.

It was massive. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined two walls, filled with leather-bound volumes that looked like they’d never been touched. A huge mahogany desk sat in the center of the room, papers neatly stacked, a laptop closed and waiting.

There was a leather couch in the corner, a bar cart with expensive-looking bottles of whiskey, and a window that overlooked the estate grounds.

It was the kind of room that screamed power and control. The kind of room that belonged to a man like Jonathan Hart.

I walked over to the bookshelves, running my fingers along the spines. Most of them were business books, biographies of CEOs and politicians, a few on philosophy.

Then I noticed something odd.

One of the shelves looked… different. Like it didn’t quite sit flush with the wall.

I reached out and pressed against it gently.

There was a soft click, and the shelf swung inward.

A hidden door.

My heart started pounding again, this time from curiosity instead of fear.

I hesitated for just a moment, then stepped through.

The room on the other side was smaller, dimly lit, with walls painted a deep charcoal gray. And hanging on those walls…

Oh.

Oh my God.

This wasn’t just a hidden room.

It was a playroom.

Leather restraints hung from hooks on the wall. A padded bench sat in the center, its surface was smooth and inviting. There were shelves lined with things I recognized and things I didn’t…silk ropes, blindfolds, floggers, paddles, items I’d only ever seen in movies or read about in books I was too embarrassed to admit I’d read.

Everything was clean and really organized.

I stood there, frozen, staring at the room like it might disappear if I blinked.

Jonathan Hart had a BDSM playroom!

Jonathan. Fucking. Hart.

The cold, intimidating CEO who barely smiled and ruled his company with an iron fist had a secret room filled with…

“Elena?”

His voice came from the study, and I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat.

I turned toward the door, my pulse racing, and realized I had no idea what the hell I was going to say.