Chapter 8
Elena was sitting calmly in the armchair by the bay window, a steaming cup of tea resting between her hands. She looked up as Arthur stepped off the last stair, her dark eyes scanning his face for any sign of rebellion. The black leather ledger felt heavy and burning against his lower back, tucked securely into his waistband beneath his untucked blue shirt.
"You took your time," Elena said softly, taking a slow sip of her tea. "I thought we agreed it was time to clear the air about your unfounded suspicions."
Arthur kept his face deliberately blank, forcing his breathing to remain slow and measured. He walked over to the kitchen counter, pouring himself a glass of plain tap water, keeping his back to her so she couldn't read his micro-expressions. "I'm tired, Elena. The past few weeks have broken me. You were right; maybe I am seeing things that aren't there."
A faint, self-satisfied smile touched Elena’s lips. She set her teacup down on the small glass table with a delicate clink and stood up, smoothing down the front of her satin pajamas. She walked over to him, stopping just a few feet away, her presence suffocatingly close.
"Of course I was right, Arthur," Elena murmured, reaching out to gently adjust the collar of his blue shirt. Her fingers brushed dangerously close to where the ledger was hidden, and Arthur had to fight every survival instinct in his body not to flinch away from her touch. "You’ve been under an immense amount of pressure since the accident. It's natural for your mind to play tricks on you, to look for villains where there are only caretakers."
"I just want Lily to get better," Arthur said, his voice flat, playing the role of the broken man to perfection. "I'm going to take her for a drive this afternoon. Get her out of this bedroom. Fresh air might do us both some good."
Elena’s hand froze on his collar. The subtle warmth in her posture vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, calculating stillness. "A drive? I don't think that's wise, Arthur. The doctor recommended strict bed rest in a controlled environment. She isn't strong enough for travel."
"She's my daughter, Elena," Arthur said, stepping back firmly to break her contact. "And I'm taking her out for an hour. No more arguments."
Elena stared at him for a long, agonizing moment. Her eyes narrowed, searching his face for the compliance she expected, but finding only a stubborn, exhausted shell. She knew something had shifted, but she hadn't yet realized the full extent of what he had discovered.
"As you wish, Arthur," Elena said smoothly, though her jaw tightened. "Take her for your drive. But be back before dark. We have guests coming for dinner—people from the financial district who need to finalize the estate restructuring papers."
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Arthur felt a cold surge of triumph. The estate restructuring papers—the final nail in her coffin. "We'll be back," Arthur lied smoothly.
He turned away from her, walking toward the stairs without looking back. He could feel her eyes burning into his spine the entire way up, watching his every move. He reached the second-floor landing, slipped into Lily’s room, and locked the door behind him with trembling hands.
