Daisy's Code Novel by Amelia Bennett

On the outskirts of Narston, near the bustling airport, Daisy leaned against a graffiti- tagged wall, her suitcase by her side showing signs of many travels.

Her face was a portrait of innocence with a mop of bangs swept back, framing eyes that danced with a mischievous glint. She looked like the kind of girl who could light up a room, but also one who might find herself in the wrong kind of spotlight.

She glanced at the group of guys in front of her, their postures and expressions saying “trouble” in capital letters.

“So, you’re the muscle my stepsister Laura hired to scare me off?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

The ‘muscle’ looked at her, trying to reconcile the sweet face with the audacity of her question. They’d been told she was a pushover, a small-town girl out of her depth in the city.

“Save the sass, sweetheart. Your stepsister thinks you’re better off back in your village. Unless you want a hospital visit, hand over your cash and get gone,” one of them sneered, pulling out a blade for emphasis.

Daisy didn’t miss a beat. “You’re in touch with my stepsister? Perfect. Could you text her for me? I need the Wilder family’s address.”

The guy with the blade blinked, clearly not the reaction he’d expected.

Daisy played innocent, scratching her head. “I lost the address my grandma gave me. You guys are my lucky break.”

The guy’s face darkened. “You’re playing a dangerous game, kid.”

He lunged, but Daisy was quicker. In a heartbeat, she had the upper hand, the knife now pointing back at them.

All the thugs were stunned, freezing there.

“Who’s ready to answer some questions now?” she asked, her voice sweet but her gaze daring them to try something.

A short while later, met with all the shocking and fearful gazes, Daisy was straightening out the clothes of a guy whose face was a bit puffy from the encounter.

“You guys made this harder than it had to be,” she said, pulling out some cash from his wallet. “Consider it a tip for the service”

With a light step, Daisy walked out of the alley, her scuffed suitcase bumping along behind her.

The city of Narston was a far cry from Mistville, the sleepy town she’d always known. Her eighteen years there with her grandma, Rose, had been a cozy cocoon, but a note that pointed her towards a family connection from Rose had nudged her out into the big, bad world.

Rose’s departure had been as abrupt as it was complete, leaving Daisy with nothing but this note about her biological father. With a deep breath, Daisy set off into the urban jungle, her only guide to the cityscapes she’d seen on late-night TV.

She approached a car and pulled the door open, asking the fare to the address she just got, but stopped short when she locked eyes with Lance Lindsey inside. He was a sight to behold, all sharp edges and icy coolness.

Lance’s gaze was intense, his posture relaxed yet commanding, his hands resting confidently on the wheel. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up, showcasing forearms that looked like they’d been chiseled from marble. Sunlight streamed in, bathing him in a halo of light that only added to his air of quiet power.

Daisy felt a jolt of something she couldn’t name, a mix of fear and fascination.

“Sorry, seems like I mistook-” she was about to stammer an apology for the mix-up.

“Where to?” he cut her off and asked, his tone smooth as velvet.

Her heart, usually a steady drumbeat in her chest, was now a wild rhythm.

She took a deep breath, settled into the passenger seat, and handed him a crumpled piece of paper with an address. “Here,” she said, her voice a bit shaky.

The address read “Serene Estate,” a place known for its luxury and exclusivity.

His eyes flicked to the paper, then back to her, a silent question in their depths. “Home?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue.

“T guess so,” Daisy replied, her eyes on the blur of buildings outside. “Truth is, I’ve never been there before.”

Lance took in her response with a brief, silent look, assuming she was one of those unwanted illegitimate daughters.

The journey was a silent one, interrupted only by the soft hum of the car’s engine.

When they arrived at the estate, Daisy handed Lance the money she’d just got. “Will this cover it?”

He nodded, his fingers brushing against hers as he took the money. “Yeah.”

His fingers were long and well-manicured-a detail that didn’t go unnoticed by Daisy. She couldn’t help but think about the stark difference between the city’s polished professionals and the rougher folks back in her small town.

As his car pulled away, Daisy turned toward the estate, only to be met with a polite but firm refusal.

“Miss, I don’t think you’re in the right place.” The security guard’s voice was soft, but his message was clear. “We don’t have any Wilder here.”

Daisy blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

Clearly, the thugs had given her a bum steer, a way to dodge any trouble with her or Laura.

With a frustrated huff, Daisy raked her fingers through her hair and pulled out her laptop. “Thought I wouldn’t have done this,” she muttered, flipping it open.

Her fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, and the screen momentarily went dark before displaying a list of the Wilder family’s addresses in Narston. Daisy let out a resigned sigh, her eyes scanning the list as she began the process of finding the correct one.

*****

Lance pulled his car to the curb and his phone buzzed like it was trying to escape his pocket.

He hit the green button, and his friend Harley Ritter’s voice filled with playful sarcasm came through. “Lance, you snag the Wilder girl?”

“Not quite,” Lance said, rolling down the window, the air rushing in. He lit a cigarette, leaning back with a casual confidence. “I stumbled on this firecracker of a girl and thought I’d do her a favor.”

Harley’s tone sp** with curiosity. “Lance, Mrs. Lindsey isn’t playing around about this one…

“Gotta bounce,” Lance said, already reaching for the end call button.

“Hold up!” Harley’s voice was urgent. “What’s the story with this girl that’s got you off track?”

“She’s got this fight in her,” Lance said, a grin playing on his lips as he remembered the spark in her eyes.

Harley was taken aback. Lance had always been a maverick, going for the unconventional. No wonder the rich ladies were out of his league.

With a m**tal shrug, Harley asked, “What’s her handle? I’ll run a check.”

Lance’s pause was brief, his fingers still holding the cigarette. “Slip of the mind.”

Harley let out a dry chuckle. Lance was used to being the one everyone chased. He was a fish out of water when it came to chasing someone else.

“But she’s living at Serene Estate. A natural daughter,” Lance added, as if that should mean something. “And she’s a real knockout.”

Harley forced a smile. “Gotcha. I’ll dig up the dirt.”