My Billionaire Ex Beg For A Second Chance-Chapter 32: A Stranger in Black

Years ago

The old floorboards creaked beneath Katherine’s feet as she stepped carefully through the narrow hallway of her mother’s house, balancing a half-filled box of old trinkets and photo albums against her hip. Dust floated lazily in the afternoon sunlight that slanted through the faded curtains, illuminating motes of the past that lingered in the air.

It had only been five days since her mother passed. The silence in the house was heavier than ever, not because no one was speaking, but because no one was left to speak. Her father had died when she was still in junior high, and now with her mother gone too, the weight of being truly alone was settling on her shoulders like a thick winter coat she couldn’t shrug off.

She reached the living room and gently placed the box on the wooden coffee table. Her hands trembled slightly as she ran a finger along the spine of a worn photo album. So many memories, some warm, others heavy with pain, but all tucked away in corners she hadn’t opened in years.

Just as she straightened up and was about to reach for another pile, the doorbell rang.

The sound jolted her.

She blinked, staring at the front door for a moment. Probably another neighbor coming by to offer condolences or drop off food. There’d been a few of those in the past few days. With a soft sigh, she dusted her hands on her jeans and walked across the room.

She opened the door.

And froze.

Standing in front of her was a man dressed entirely in black. Tailored black suit. Black tie. Black leather gloves. And the darkest sunglasses she’d ever seen, even though the sky was overcast.

He looked to be in his early fifties, maybe a bit older, with silver peppered in his neatly-combed dark hair and a posture so straight it could’ve been made of steel. Something about him didn’t feel like he belonged to the friendly neighborhood crowd. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"Katherine Anderson?" the man asked, his voice smooth, low, and almost unsettlingly polite.

Katherine narrowed her eyes, her fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the door. "Yes? Who are you?"

The man tilted his head in a slight nod, offering her a small, practiced smile. It wasn’t warm.

"Are you busy at the moment, Miss Anderson?"

She blinked. "Excuse me? Who are you? What is this about?"

The man clasped his gloved hands in front of him. "My employer has requested your presence. I’m here to escort you."

Katherine took a step back instinctively, heart beginning to pound. What the hell?

"Your employer?" she repeated, voice growing wary. "Who is that?"

He paused, as if considering how much to say. "I’m afraid I can’t tell you that here."

Her mind raced. What the hell was happening? Did her mother have debts she didn’t know about? Did someone think she had inherited something valuable? Or was this just a case of mistaken identity?

Or worse—had her mother somehow gotten involved in something shady and this was the fallout?

She stiffened. "What if I say no?"

The man’s smile returned, this time with an edge to it. "I’m afraid that’s not an option, Miss Anderson."

The breath caught in her throat.

He didn’t move. Didn’t threaten. Didn’t raise his voice. But his words landed with the weight of something final. Certain.

Katherine’s eyes darted to the street behind him. A sleek, black car waited at the curb, engine humming quietly. Its tinted windows gave away nothing.

She stepped back further into the doorway, gripping the edge of the doorframe now. "This is insane. I don’t know who you are, and you think I’m just going to go with you because your so-called boss told you to come get me?"

He gave a slow nod, as if acknowledging the absurdity of it all.

"I understand this is sudden, but I assure you, you’re not in danger. Not from us. My employer simply wishes to speak with you."

Her throat tightened.

"Speak with me? About what?"

"That," he said, "is something he’ll explain himself."

Katherine’s eyes darted toward the door, gauging the distance, calculating escape. Her heart pounded, but she held her ground.

"Who is your employer, anyway?" she asked, her voice sharp with tension. "You keep talking like I should know, like this is all normal. It’s not. So who is he?"

The man didn’t flinch. He met her stare with practiced calm. "It’s not my place to tell you more than what I already have."

She scoffed, taking a step back. "That’s not good enough. You show up out of nowhere, say I’m not in danger, then expect me to follow you like some obedient little stray?"

"I’m just here to extend an invitation, Miss."

"An invitation with no details, from someone you won’t name," she said bitterly. "Yeah, that sounds totally safe."

He hesitated, then sighed. "Winston Ford. That’s his name."

Katherine blinked. The name hit her with a strange, subtle weight. "Ford..." she repeated quietly. "That’s not... unfamiliar."

She stared at the floor for a moment, lips pressed into a line, trying to chase the feeling. It tickled the edges of her memory, but nothing solid surfaced.

"Do I know him?" she asked, her tone brittle.

The man didn’t answer.

Katherine stared at him, heartbeat thudding loudly in her ears. The man didn’t seem nervous. Didn’t seem like someone who wanted to harm her. But that didn’t mean she trusted him. Her instincts screamed at her to run, to call the police, to slam the door in his face.

But curiosity gnawed at her. There was something about the way he stood, the calm confidence of his tone, that told her this wasn’t a bluff.

"You won’t regret it," he said softly, as if reading her hesitation. "If you come with me, you’ll get answers. Real ones."

She swallowed hard, the words tightening something deep in her chest. "You keep saying that. Like this is going to change everything."

He gave the smallest of nods. "It will."