The hidden contracts.
And the messages with Ashley, who happened to work in the sales division of one of his companies.
When Ryan checked into the hotel that afternoon, he didn’t notice the gold H embroidered on the bellman’s uniform.
He didn’t notice my father’s portrait hanging above the grand staircase.
And he certainly didn’t understand why the front desk manager went pale after reading his name.
“Welcome, Mr. Bennett,” the manager said carefully. “Your suite is ready.”
“Good. And reserve the best table in the restaurant tomorrow night.”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Put it under Bennett.”
