to shadow her. He’d already gotten a report from Porter Cole. Porter had caught a guy trying to break into Christine’s apartment while she was at work. According to his report, Porter had acted like he was a resident of the apartment complex and scared the guy off. But both Daniel and Porter knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. Someone wanted inside Christine’s apartment, no doubt to gather evidence that could be used against her in the court of public opinion.
Porter said there was also a woman who lingered near the child’s day care. At pick up and drop off, and when the children went out to the playground, the woman was within line of sight. Probably taking pictures of the little girl Daniel had seen in the small frame on Christine’s desk.
The little girl had wispy light brown hair, but her eyes were almost exactly like her mother’s brilliant blue ones. Except innocent and hopeful, instead of trapped and scared.
Christine didn’t want his help but she desperately needed it. It would be so much easier if she were willing to talk to him. They could coordinate and come up with a plan that would minimize this disruption to her and her daughter’s lives.
But that wasn’t going to happen. At least not immediately. Daniel revised his original opinion. She would not call him in a panic the moment she became an internet story. She’d already told Brian off and then told him off. She wouldn’t be spooked by a little media coverage. She’d try to brazen it out just like she had at the bank. It was a brave choice. Stupid, but brave.
No, Daniel wouldn’t hear from Christine when she became news. But when her daughter became news?
That was when she would either call him or disappear.
He figured he had a week before Clarence Murray announced his candidacy for the open US Senate seat in Missouri.
If only his grandfather could see him now. Lee Dae-Won wouldn’t contain his disappointment at Daniel’s choices—yet again. Daniel had never been smart enough or ambitious enough or legitimate enough—and certainly never Korean enough—for his grandfather. All might have been forgiven if Daniel had married any of the dozens of acceptable Korean women his grandfather had paraded in front of him over the years and started a family to carry on the family business.
Daniel had steadfastly refused to marry anyone, much less father any children. And he had refused to move to South Korea permanently and live under his grandfather’s thumb. It had driven the old man insane that his only heir had rejected the family business, Lee Enterprises.
Daniel liked to think that, at least as a political consultant, he had made the old man proud. Lee Dae-Won hadn’t become one of the richest men in South Korea by investing wisely in real estate and electronic manufacturing. Daniel’s grandfather had gained power through manipulation, lies and outright bribery. He had trafficked in secrets and that, more than family honor or loyalty, was what Daniel had learned at his knee during summer vacations spent at the family compound in Seoul.
He who controlled the information controlled the world.
Daniel hated not being in control.
He shouldn’t care about what happened to Christine or her daughter. At the very least, the basic security measures he was enacting on her behalf should relieve him of his guilt.
It didn’t.
Because he had to admit that he did care. He’d catch himself staring at her photo again. And that? That had nothing to do with guilt.
He hoped she’d call him. That was all he could do. The next contact had to be hers.
That didn’t mean there wasn’t anything else he could be doing right now, though. He scrolled through his contacts list until he found the number he was looking for.
“Hello, Daniel,” Natalie Wesley said, answering on the second ring. “Is this a business call or not?”
“What’s to say it’s not both?” he asked, trying to sound like he was teasing her and knowing he was failing miserably. “How are you and CJ?”
CJ Wesley was another one of Daniel’s half brothers—another one of Hardwick Beaumont’s bastards. CJ was the one who hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Beaumont Brewery. He was a rancher up on the northeast side of Denver and he preferred his privacy. Which made it all the funnier that he had married the former television personality Natalie Baker—the same woman who had tried to expose his parentage to the world.
Natalie was one of the very few people who had been able to locate CJ and ascertain his identity. Plus, she’d had her own morning news show, A Good Morning With Natalie Baker, for almost a decade. She was an investigative journalist who knew how to talk to the cameras. “We’re fine. You should come up and see us. CJ is determined to get you on a horse, you know.”
“I’ll do that sometime,” Daniel said. While of course he cared for CJ—he was fond of nearly all of his half siblings—CJ was the hardest to be around. His mother had married a good man and he’d had a good life. CJ was at ease with himself in a way that Daniel could never pull off. “I have a situation that I’m going to need your help with.”
Natalie sighed. “The offer stands, Daniel. But what is it?”
“What do you know about Christine Murray?”
“Who?”
So, over the next twenty minutes, Daniel filled her in. “Thus far, she hasn’t accepted my help. But when she does, we’ll need to do damage control.”
“Manipulate the search rankings, plant positive news articles, maybe an interview?”
“Yes.”
“Got it.” There was a pause and Daniel braced for the sisterly concern. “We worry about you, you know.”
“Why?” His health was great. He was helping to run the third-largest brewery in America and he owned a substantial share of Lee Enterprises. He owned homes in Seoul, Denver and Chicago. What was there to worry about?
Okay, so he was a little troubled about Christine Murray and her daughter. But that wasn’t cause for alarm.
“Daniel...” Her voice trailed off. “Never mind. I’ll look into this and get back to you if I find out anything.”
It was strange that he felt disappointed she hadn’t said something else. Even though he had no idea what he wanted her to say. “Thanks.” He ended the call and refreshed the tab he kept open with his searches on Christine Murray. There was nothing new. Not yet, anyway.
But there would be. Soon.
Everything, it seemed, happened at once. One moment, Christine was just doing her job at the bank and trying not to think about the worst-case scenarios or Daniel Lee and his seemingly sincere offer of help. Or the way he filled out a suit.
Suddenly, the alerts she had set up on web searches started piling up in her inbox. Clarence Murray had declared his candidacy for the open US Senate seat. Her phone started to ring, as if people had just been waiting for the official announcement. She was trying to read the article about her father and trying to answer the phone in her business-professional voice and saying
