“What was her name?”
I swallowed.
“Eleanor Ward.”
Richard Halston dropped to his knees.
And Daniel turned completely pale.
Nearly two hundred executives watched one of the wealthiest men in the country kneel before the woman my husband had just tried to hide beside the kitchen.
Richard’s voice trembled.
“Eleanor had a daughter?”
“Yes.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty.”
He closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, the shock on his face had been replaced by something heavier.
Guilt.
Daniel forced out an awkward laugh.
“Mr. Halston, perhaps this is something that should be discussed privately.”
Richard finally turned toward him.
“Who are you?”
Daniel blinked.
“Daniel Mercer. Senior strategy director.”
Richard looked at me.
“And who is he to you?”
“My husband.”
The silence in the room became unbearable.
Richard’s eyes narrowed.
“He put you behind that curtain?”
Daniel’s face collapsed.
