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Chapter 1182: The “Self-Depraved” Heiress
🕑 Added 2025-06-14 20:00:04 +0000 UTCWhen it came to professional matters, they were best handled by professionals. After a round of thinly veiled threats from Jubal and Aubrey, the FBI quickly obtained the information they needed.
Katherine Villa—a former escort who had suddenly and hastily quit the business three years ago.
According to Madam Peyton, Katherine had been very young and highly sought after when she left, and her departure had come without explanation, appearing quite abrupt.
“I have to admit, the level of structure in this profession is a bit surprising,” Jack said as he drove through the night with JJ.
He had assumed that regular medical checkups were already a sign of professionalism in the industry—but it turned out these people had evolved a whole sophisticated system.
Helping clients avoid legal entanglements was the obvious part, but ensuring the women had an exit strategy and could leave the business safely? That was rare.
Then again, considering that the clients were men of considerable wealth and influence, it made a certain kind of sense.
Escort. Agency. Wealthy clients. The three sides balanced one another, maintaining a transactional model that was both discreet and, in its own way, dignified.
Jack and JJ exchanged a look as they stood before a suburban villa on the outskirts of The Woodlands.
The Woodlands was part of the Greater Houston metro area, and like Plano, it was regarded as one of the most livable cities in Texas.
Well-educated population, good employment prospects, low crime rate—and judging from the house, which wasn’t quite luxurious but definitely above middle-class standards, Katherine Villa seemed to be living quite comfortably now.
The doorbell rang. The door opened. A stunning young blonde woman—no older than twenty-five or twenty-six—stood before them.
“FBI. We’re looking for Katherine Villa,” JJ said as she showed her badge.
The woman’s bright smile vanished in an instant. Then, realizing her reaction might be too conspicuous, she forced a polite grin. “Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong person.”
Jack stepped forward, placing his foot against the door just as she tried to close it. His eyes narrowed slightly. “We’re not interested in your past. We’re looking for the woman who bought your client list.
We didn’t come here to disrupt your current life. We know your husband is away on business—that’s why we chose now to visit. Isn’t that a sign of good faith?”
While the woman hesitated, a toddler toddled out from behind her, wrapped his arms around her leg, and shouted, “Mommy!”
“Sweetheart, go play with your toys, okay?” she coaxed gently.
After the boy toddled off, she looked back at the two FBI agents, whose expressions had softened. She finally stepped aside and said, “Come in.”
Jack glanced around the interior of the house. The decor was tasteful, understated but clearly well thought out. It was clear that this woman, who came from an ordinary background, had successfully climbed the social ladder.
Even if her path had been unconventional and unspoken, achieving this kind of upward mobility in modern America was no small feat.
After seating the two agents in the living room, Katherine listened to their explanation. Her initial tension seemed to dissipate.
“The person you’re looking for is Megan Kane. Her father was one of my eight regular clients—Andrew Kane.”
Jack pulled out his phone and Googled the name. “Vice President of Albert Petroleum Group?”
“Yes,” Katherine nodded. “We had a relationship for six years.”
Doing a bit of mental math based on her current age, Jack let out a quiet sigh. That meant she’d entered the profession before she was even legally an adult.
“We’re sorry to disturb you after you’ve started a new life,” JJ said sincerely. “But we need your help with a few things.”
“Seeing a man like him stay with the same escort for six years—that’s rare, isn’t it?” she asked.
Katherine offered a wry smile. “Men in his position care about discretion above all else. As long as their needs are met, they don’t see a reason to switch.”
“How did Megan Kane find you?” JJ asked.
Katherine’s expression became complicated, as if unsure how to explain. “Because of me, Andrew left his wife—or at least, that’s what everyone thought at the time. Myself included.”
Jack frowned slightly, trying to process the statement.
“He later married someone else. But when Megan came to me, I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t even inform Madam Peyton.”
“Wait—sorry,” Jack interrupted, struggling to follow. “You mean Andrew Kane used his feelings for you as an excuse to divorce his wife… then married someone more socially appropriate? Is that it?”
Perhaps the memory was too painful to relive. Katherine held her forehead in her hand for a moment before answering with a bitter smile.
“Don’t laugh at my naïveté. At the time, almost everyone believed that version of events. Even me.”
“But you don’t seem surprised that someone like Megan—a wealthy heiress—would choose the same profession as you. I mean, she had a bright future ahead of her,” JJ said, carefully choosing her words.
“What are you talking about?” Katherine looked genuinely confused. “Megan became an escort? That’s impossible!”
“So you didn’t know?” Jack asked quickly, sensing something was off. “What did she tell you? Why did she want the client list?”
Katherine looked visibly shaken. “She paid a large sum of money and asked me to leave Dallas. She said the fault lay primarily with her father, but that I was also responsible for destroying her parents’ marriage—and her life.
Still, she saw me as a victim, too. She didn’t want revenge. She just wanted me to leave the business and give her the list, so it wouldn’t fall into anyone else’s hands.”
—
“These are all the files we’ve compiled so far on Megan Kane,” Alice said as Jack and JJ returned to the Dallas office.
“Her parents divorced four years ago, right after she turned 18. She claimed she was going to travel the world, then vanished. She’s been off the grid ever since.”
Jack flipped through the photos. The 18-year-old Megan Kane was indeed the same woman he had seen in the elevator. In the photo, she looked a bit younger, but the refined air about her hadn’t changed.
With her striking beauty and the poise only wealth and elite education could instill, she was the kind of woman who seemed to have fallen from some noble house in ancient Cerys lore—irresistible to the powerful and privileged.
No wonder she had risen so quickly in the escort world, commanding a price of $20,000 a night.
