Chapter 3 - The Ghost’s Voice
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The silence in the study was suffocating. Naomi stared at the intricate patterns of the Persian rug, refusing to meet Damon’s eyes.
“I was living in Brooklyn,” Naomi finally said, her voice shaking. “I was working at a diner. Trying to make ends meet.”
Damon stared at her. He had built his entire empire by reading people—knowing when they were folding a bad hand, knowing when they were desperate, and knowing when they were lying. Naomi was terrified, but she was lying.
Before Damon could press further, Zuri wriggled out of her mother’s grip. The toddler walked over to the grand piano in the corner of the study and pressed a single, bright key.
Then, she began to hum.
It was a slow, melancholic melody. A classical Italian lullaby.
Damon felt the blood freeze in his veins. It was the exact song Elena used to hum when she was tending to the gardens. It wasn't on the radio. It wasn't in movies. It was a song her grandmother had taught her in a small village in Tuscany.
“Where did you learn that tune, Zuri?” Damon whispered, crossing the room to stand behind the little girl.
“The sad lady sings it to me when I go to sleep,” Zuri smiled, turning around. “She says it keeps the monsters away.”
Naomi stood up abruptly. “Stop it, Zuri. We are leaving right now.”
“You are not leaving,” Damon stated, turning to face the maid. “Your daughter knows things that are impossible for her to know. She knows my wife’s favorite lullaby. She knows about a hidden ring. She knows about my brother’s tattoo.”
“She’s just a child!” Naomi cried out. “Children have active imaginations! Please, Mr. Ashford, don't do this.”
“Vance!” Damon yelled toward the door.
The heavy doors unlocked immediately, and his head of security stepped inside, a formidable presence in a tailored black suit.
“Boss?” Vance asked, his eyes darting between the maid and the billionaire.
“I want a full, microscopic background check on Naomi Carter,” Damon commanded, never taking his eyes off the woman. “I want to know every hospital she’s ever visited, every apartment she’s ever rented, and every bank account she’s ever opened. And I want it in ten minutes.”
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“It’s already in progress, sir,” Vance nodded.
Damon looked back at Naomi. “If you lie to me again, I won't just fire you. I will make sure you never find a quiet place to hide in this city again.”
