Chapter 2 - Uncuffed into the Storm
Elena stood near the wooden staircase,
rubbing her reddened wrists where the steel had pressed into her skin.
She looked at Daniel,
her breathing coming in short,
uneven gasps.
“I never read it,
Mr. Mercer,”
Elena said softly,
her voice echoing through the grand hall.
“Mrs. Mercer asked me to hide a red book in the attic safe three years ago,”
she continued,
looking down at Mason and Caleb.
“She told me to keep it locked until the boys turned eighteen.”
The police officer pulled out his notepad,
scribbling down notes rapidly as the situation grew exponentially more complex.
“Ma’am,”
the officer said to Vivian,
“you are going to need to come down to the station with us.”
“You cannot arrest me,”
Vivian snapped,
reverting instantly to her defensive posture.
“This is my family’s estate,
and I was acting under extreme duress!”
“You placed a false emergency call,”
the officer countered coldly,
“and you fabricated evidence against an employee.”
He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt,
the metallic sound making Mason flinch.
“Please,
take the kids upstairs,
Elena,”
Daniel said quietly,
not taking his eyes off his mother.
Elena nodded quickly,
taking Caleb’s small hand in hers while Mason followed close behind.
As they walked up the grand staircase,
Mason looked back over his shoulder,
watching his grandmother being escorted toward the front door.
Vivian stopped near the doorway,
turning her head back to look at her son.
“You think you are saving this household,
Daniel,”
she said,
her voice carrying a chilling tone of warning.
“But Arthur already has what he needs.”
“What does that mean?”
Daniel demanded,
stepping into the doorway.
“He didn’t come for the necklace,
Daniel,”
Vivian said with a grim smile as the second officer opened the cruiser door.
“The necklace was just a distraction to get the police here so you wouldn’t check the study.”
Daniel’s heart dropped into his stomach.
He turned instantly toward the hallway leading to his private office.
The heavy mahogany door was slightly ajar,
a detail he had missed when he first arrived home.
He rushed down the corridor,
his leather shoes skidding against the polished floor.
He pushed the door wide open,
revealing a scene of quiet devastation.
The small floor safe behind his desk was wide open,
its heavy steel door swinging silently on its hinges.
The contents inside were completely gone.
The blue folders containing his estate plans,
the backup drives,
and Clara’s personal letters had all been removed.
Daniel sank into his desk chair,
holding his head in his hands as the reality setting in battered his sanity.
May you like
The entire domestic dispute had been a manufactured illusion.
A theatrical performance designed to draw everyone to the foyer while someone else looted his private files.
