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The Girl’s Got Cojones

Gideon stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, a glass of Domaine Lecheneaut Les Pruliers pinot noir in hand. The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, filling the sky and Gideon’s heart with darkness. He replayed the miraculous encounter that day in his head for the thousandth time. He was on his way to dinner. When the car stopped at a traffic junction, he turned to look out the window, and there she was, strolling down the street with her head bowed, eyes glued to her phone screen. Fate had delivered her to him, but he’d let her slip through his fingers once again. How could he lose her for the second time? Gideon blamed himself. If only he’d held onto her tighter… A knock on the door broke his reverie. ‘Come in.’ He finished the pinot noir in one gulp. Martin entered. ‘Young Master, this is what we can find on Helen Raynor.’ Gideon had never met Kira’s mother. When he lived with the Hewitts, both father and daughter avoided talking about Helen. But four years was enough

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