Chapter 2 - Behind Closed Doors
The threat hung in the chilly air between them like a blade.
Ethan carried Lily out through the side corridor, bypassing the ballroom entirely, and took the private elevator straight to the master wing on the third floor. He set her down on the plush velvet sofa in front of the crackling fireplace.
"Marcus," Ethan spoke into his smartwatch, bypassing the switchboard. "Cut the music. Clear the ballroom. Tell our guests that an urgent family medical emergency has come up and offer everyone private car service home."
"Right away, Mr. Caldwell," his head of security replied instantly. "And Ms. Vance?"
"If she isn't out the front gates in three minutes, remove her by force."
Ethan clicked off the link and knelt in front of Lily again. Her tiny frame was drowning in his jacket. Her eyes were fixed on the hearth, watching the flames lick the birch logs.
"Lily," Ethan murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear. "How long has this been happening?"
She didn't answer right away. She reached into the pocket of her oversized sweater and pulled out the crumpled photograph she had retrieved from the kitchen floor. It was a picture of Claire—Ethan’s late wife—smiling on a beach in Nantucket, holding a two-year-old Lily against the summer wind.
"Whenever you went to Chicago," Lily said, her voice barely audible over the crackling logs. "Or New York. Ms. Vanessa said... she said money is running out because of my private school. She said if I told you, you’d get sick and die like Mommy did, from all the stress."
A cold, sickening fury washed over Ethan’s chest. For the past eight months, his venture capital firm had been acquiring tech portfolios across the Midwest. He had been traveling four days a week, trusting Vanessa—the daughter of his late mentor, Arthur Vance—to care for his home and his grief-stricken daughter.
"She fired Mrs. Gable, didn't she?" Ethan realized aloud. "Two months ago. She told me Mrs. Gable retired to Florida."
"Mrs. Gable tried to stop her from locking my bedroom door at night," Lily whispered, looking up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Ms. Vanessa told her that if she said a word, she’d have her grandson’s student visa revoked through her father’s law firm."
Ethan’s phone buzzed aggressively in his pocket. It was Marcus.
"Mr. Caldwell. We escorted Ms. Vance to her town car. But something's wrong. She didn't leave alone."
"What do you mean?"
"Arthur Vance was already waiting in the driveway in a black Mercedes. When Vanessa got in, he rolled down his window and told me to give you a message: 'Tell Ethan to check the offshore escrow accounts before market open tomorrow.'"
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Ethan’s pulse spiked. "Did you secure my study?"
"The biometric lock on the private study was bypassed twenty minutes before you arrived home, sir. The backup drives are gone."
