Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 10

A painfully familiar scent washed over her as the man's hand lightly caught her waist.

Her body instantly went rigid.

"Heh..."

A mocking scoff came from above her head.

"Are you in that much of a rush to throw yourself at me, Ms. Vance? Are you deliberately trying to cause a rift between cousins?"

Willa scrambled to straighten up, stumbling back half a step in humiliation. As his hand slipped from her waist, his fingertips dragged deliberately across her palm in an intensely suggestive graze.

Willa froze, opening her mouth to snap at him. "Ran—"

Randal smoothly slipped his hand into his pocket and raised an eyebrow. "You really are ruthless, Ms. Vance. Using me and tossing me aside without a second thought."

The words died in Willa's throat, leaving her fuming.

She hadn't even said a single word, and he was already spinning the narrative to play the victim.

But she reminded herself that she was here for work. She wasn't going to get dragged into a petty argument.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a stiff, professional smile. "Since you're so busy, Mr. Yates, let's not waste any time."

Randal strolled over to the sofa and sat down, a faint, unreadable smirk playing on his lips.

He crossed his long legs and leaned lazily against the backrest, tilting his head to gesture at the empty chair opposite him.

"Have a seat, Ms. Vance."

His movements were flawlessly fluid and completely composed, making his earlier borderline harassment feel like a figment of her imagination.

Willa swallowed her discomfort, sat down, and pulled her recorder and interview outline from her bag, resting them on her lap.

Looking up, she asked, "Shall we begin, Mr. Yates?"

Randal gave a deadpan nod.

The interview lasted exactly thirty minutes. She worked straight through her outline, and Randal remained unusually cooperative, providing highly professional answers to every question.

Willa turned around, waving her dark phone screen with a helpless smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Yates, my phone is dead."

Randal's gaze fell on her device, and he let out a scoff. "It's about time you upgraded that piece of junk."

He didn't press the issue any further. Giving her one last, indiscernible look, he turned and walked away.

Willa didn't dare linger for a second longer, but the moment she got back to her apartment, she received a call from a courier.

The package was left at her door. When she tore it open, she found a brand-new, shrink-wrapped smartphone inside. A chill shot down her spine.

She shoved it hastily back into the bag and tossed it into the corner of the entryway.

The next day at the magazine office, she transcribed the interview, polishing and editing the draft until it was absolutely flawless before sending it to Xandra, copying the email address Randal's assistant had provided.

With that done, Willa collapsed into her chair, the suffocating weight on her chest finally easing just a fraction.

However, the relief didn't last long.

Exactly as she feared, Xandra called her back into the office over the intercom.