Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN BEHIND THE DOOR
Rachel's phone went straight to voicemail.
Security searched every floor.
Police searched the grounds.
Nothing.
Then one detective found something strange.
Rachel's evening coat was still in the staff cloakroom.
Her car remained in the garage.
She had not left normally.
Dad stared at the security map.
“She knows this estate better than most of us.”
Mom answered,
“Better than Richard.”
I looked at the laptop.
The video had been recorded near the west corridor.
“What was she doing with Damian?”
Vanessa sat opposite me.
“Maybe controlling him.”
Damian heard her.
“You don't know anything.”
I turned toward him.
“Then explain.”
He looked at his lawyer.
His lawyer shook his head.
Damian stayed silent.
I opened another file.
Payments to Rachel Morgan.
Not from Cross accounts.
From Northstar.
Millions over nineteen years.
Dad stared.
“She was working for them before she worked for me.”
Mom whispered,
“She was placed inside our family.”
The thought made me sick.
Rachel knew everything.
Birthdays.
Vacations.
Medical appointments.
Business schedules.
Arguments.
Relationships.
She had held my hand after my grandmother died.
She had helped me choose a college.
She had taught me how to drive in the estate parking lot.
And she had been watching us.
I opened another document.
TARGET DEVELOPMENT: C. VALE.
Dad leaned closer.
“What does that mean?”
The document described me.
Intelligent.
Independent.
Emotionally attached to Thomas Reed.
Potential successor to Alexander Vale.
High reputational value.
Suitable leverage point.
My father whispered,
“They were planning to use you.”
Mom shook her head.
“No.”
I scrolled.
Then found a date.
Tonight.
OBJECTIVE: RECOVER REED DRIVE.
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: DISCREDIT C. VALE.
I looked at Damian.
“You were supposed to provoke me.”
He said nothing.
“You wanted me to attack you.”
Nothing.
“Then you'd make me look unstable.”
His jaw tightened.
Vanessa whispered,
“That's why there were cameras.”
Exactly.
The corridor camera angle captured me.
But not whoever stood close to the wall.
They wanted footage.
A wealthy heiress attacking Damian Cross.
A scandal.
A distraction.
Maybe enough to discredit whatever evidence I produced afterward.
But I had not attacked him.
So Damian escalated.
He grabbed me.
Threatened me.
And finally slammed me against the wall.
He lost control of his own plan.
Then I called Dad.
And everything changed.
A police officer rushed into the room.
“We found something.”
He led us toward the old library.
One bookshelf stood partially open.
Behind it was a narrow service staircase.
Dad stared.
“I didn't know this existed.”
Mom did.
I could see it.
“You knew.”
She nodded.
“Old servant passages.”
We climbed.
The staircase ended behind a panel overlooking the ballroom.
A hidden observation room.
Inside were monitors.
Recording equipment.
Phones.
And photographs covering an entire wall.
Our family.
The Cross family.
Politicians.
Executives.
Judges.
Rachel had been running surveillance from inside the estate.
Then we saw blood.
A small trail led behind the desk.
Dad moved first.
Rachel was lying there.
Alive.
Barely.
Her dress was stained dark at the shoulder.
Her eyes opened.
“Alexander.”
Dad knelt.
“Who did this?”
Rachel looked at me.
“Claire.”
I moved closer.
“You set me up.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I had to.”
“No.”
My voice hardened.
“You chose to.”
She flinched.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
“Who shot you?”
She struggled to breathe.
“Richard.”
I stared.
“Richard was shot too.”
“He found me.”
“He took the master ledger.”
“We fought.”
“Then who shot Richard?”
Rachel looked toward the doorway.
Her eyes widened.
“Get down.”
A shot exploded.
The monitor beside my head shattered.
Dad pulled me to the floor.
Police returned fire toward the hidden staircase.
Footsteps thundered away.
A detective ran after them.
Rachel grabbed my wrist.
“Listen.”
“What?”
“Northstar isn't the worst thing in that laptop.”
“What is?”
Her fingers tightened.
“Look for a folder called Eden.”
“What's Eden?”
Rachel's eyes filled with terror.
“Your father's succession plan.”
Dad frowned.
“I don't have a succession plan.”
Rachel looked at him.
“I know.”
Then she looked back at me.
“Because you were never supposed to inherit his company.”
May you like
She swallowed painfully.
“You were supposed to inherit Northstar.”
