Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 102

He gave a vague hum of agreement, coaxing her to make him some pasta.

After he finished eating, he reached out, pulled her into his lap, and suddenly asked, "Willa, do you still want to be a journalist?"

Willa blinked. "Why ask that out of nowhere?"

Randal lifted his head, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. His voice was devastatingly soft. "I know you've been miserable in the admin department lately."

"I read your drafts for the heritage series," he confessed. "They're incredibly well-written."

Willa's heart did a violent flip, her eyes wide with shock.

Randal's lips curved into a smirk. "What? You don't believe me?"

"No... I just never expected you to read them."

"Come out with me after work tomorrow."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there."

The second she clocked out the next day, Willa spotted Randal's sleek car idling downstairs.

They cruised straight toward the East End.

She recognized the route immediately. "Are we heading to..."

"Near the media university."

Willa froze.

The media university was her alma mater.

The campus held the ghosts of the three golden years she and Randal had shared.

Before she could drown in nostalgia, the car pulled up to a towering office building.

Willa glanced up at the massive sign: Norvale New Media Center.

"This is..."

Randal stepped out, rounded the hood to her side, and opened the door.

"Get out. Come inside with me."

Randal said absolutely nothing, merely lifting his coffee cup to take a slow, deliberate sip.

A thin sheen of sweat broke out across Zeke's forehead.

"I'm not saying the writing is flawed. Truly..." He hesitated, dropping his voice. "We've received strict directives from the top. Absolutely no negative press regarding this project is permitted. While our platform enjoys a degree of autonomy, stepping on a landmine that obvious is professional suicide."

Willa's hopes shattered, piece by piece.

Zeke looked at her, his eyes bleeding sincerity. "Ms. Vance, if you join our team, you'll have free rein over any other topic. We happen to be looking for an editor-in-chief to helm our investigative division, and I have total faith in your capabilities. It's just this specific series..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but the implication hung heavy in the air.

Randal's influence could get her through the door, but some walls couldn't be broken down with status alone.

Randal set his cup down, his voice casually dripping with lethal authority. "Editor-in-Chief Zimmerman. Are you telling me you'll take the writer, but butcher the story?"

Zeke let out a strained, nervous laugh. "Mr. Yates, please don't misunderstand. I simply mean we must hold off temporarily. Once the project wraps and the heat dies down, publishing it wouldn't be out of the question..."

"When exactly will it die down?" Randal challenged. "A year? Two years? Or are we waiting until every single historic storefront is bulldozed to dust before we publish?"

Zeke swallowed hard, awkwardly mopping the sweat from his brow.