Chapter 1 - THE MONITOR THAT SHATTERED HIS WORLDChadworth Prescott had negotiated billion-dollar acquisitions without blinking. He had faced hostile investors, ruthless competitors, and government investigators with the confidence of a man who believed that almost every problem had a price.
But sitting inside his own security room, watching his eleven-year-old daughter protect her seven-year-old sister from the woman he intended to marry, he discovered something his money had never taught him.
There were some failures no amount of wealth could excuse.
On the largest monitor, Sabina stood over Rosamund, her perfectly manicured fingers clenched around the strap of her expensive handbag.
“I believe I told you to remember your place.”
Rosamund remained between Sabina and the children.
“I understand, Miss Sabina. But frightening the girls isn't necessary.”
Sabina gave a cold laugh.
“Frightening them? I'm teaching them discipline. Something their father is apparently too busy to do.”
Lorelai lowered her eyes.
Gemma clutched the sleeve of her older sister's sweater.
Chadworth leaned forward. His security chief, Marcus Reed, stood beside him, visibly uncomfortable.
“Sir, perhaps we should intervene.”
“Not yet.”
The answer escaped Chadworth before he considered it.
He wasn't trying to prolong his daughters' suffering. He needed to understand what had been happening in the home he had foolishly believed was safe.
He needed to know how much he had failed to see.
Sabina moved toward the sofa and retrieved Gemma's stuffed rabbit.
“Come here, Gemma.”
The little girl hesitated.
“I said come here.”
Gemma obeyed.
Her small shoes barely made a sound against the polished floor.
Sabina held up the rabbit.
“What's its name?”
“Bramble,” Gemma whispered.
“And who bought you Bramble?”
“Mommy.”
Something twisted inside Chadworth's chest.
Evelyn had given Gemma that rabbit shortly before her death. Its fur had faded from white to gray, and one ear had been repaired so many times that the stitching looked like a crooked blue scar.
For two years, Gemma had refused to sleep without it.
Sabina studied the toy with obvious disgust.
“Your mother has been gone for more than two years. Don't you think it's time to stop behaving like a baby?”
Gemma's lips trembled.
“Please don't throw him away.”
“Then learn to behave.”
Rosamund stepped closer.
“Miss Sabina, may I take the girls upstairs? They still have homework.”
Sabina's eyes narrowed.
“Interesting. Whenever I try to correct these children, you suddenly find some reason to interfere.”
“They're frightened.”
“They're spoiled.”
“No, ma'am.”
The response was so quiet that Chadworth almost missed it.
But Sabina didn't.
“What did you say?”
Rosamund's hands trembled slightly at her sides.
“I said they're not spoiled. They're children who miss their mother.”
The room went silent.
For several seconds, Sabina stared at her as if she couldn't believe an employee had dared contradict her.
Then she smiled.
It was a dreadful smile.
“You know, Rosamund, I've been meaning to discuss something with you.”
She opened her handbag and removed a velvet jewelry pouch.
A diamond bracelet slid into her palm.
Chadworth recognized it immediately.
It was the bracelet Sabina had claimed was missing three days earlier.
The same bracelet she had suggested Rosamund might have stolen.
Sabina held it before the children.
“Lorelai, do you remember seeing this?”
Lorelai stared at the floor.
“Yes.”
“Good. Now tell me where you saw it.”
The older girl's shoulders tightened.
Chadworth moved so close to the monitor that Marcus instinctively stepped aside.
“Go on,” Sabina urged. “Tell me what we discussed.”
Lorelai looked toward Rosamund.
Rosamund shook her head almost imperceptibly.
“Sweetheart, you don't have to say something that isn't true.”
Sabina whipped around.
“Shut your mouth!”
Gemma began crying.
Chadworth's hand closed around the edge of the desk.
On the screen, Lorelai lifted her chin.
“I didn't see Rosamund take anything.”
Sabina's expression changed.
“What?”
“You told me to say I saw her take your bracelet.”
Chadworth stopped breathing.
Lorelai continued, her voice shaking.
“But I didn't.”
Sabina seized the girl's wrist.
“After everything I've done for you, this is how you repay me?”
Rosamund moved instantly.
“Let her go.”
There was nothing polite about her voice now.
Sabina looked genuinely startled.
“Excuse me?”
“Let go of Lorelai.”
For a moment, neither woman moved.
Then Sabina released the child with an angry shove.
Rosamund caught Lorelai before she stumbled into the coffee table.
“That is enough,” Rosamund said.
Sabina laughed harshly.
“You think you can give me orders in this house?”
“No. But I won't let you hurt them.”
Chadworth stood.
Marcus reached toward the communications panel.
“Sir?”
Chadworth raised one hand.
On the screen, Sabina pulled out her phone.
“Fine. You want to make yourself important? Let's see how important you feel when you're unemployed.”
She pressed a number.
Chadworth watched her pace toward the tall living room windows.
The cameras captured her voice clearly.
“It's me.”
A pause.
“Yes, he left this morning.”
Another pause.
“No, there won't be a problem with the housekeeper. I'll handle her.”
Chadworth exchanged a glance with Marcus.
Sabina's next words were colder.
“We need the girls out of this house before he gets suspicious.”
The billionaire felt the room tilt beneath him.
Sabina looked back toward Lorelai.
“She remembers more than we thought.”
A man's muffled voice came through the phone, too indistinct for the microphone to identify.
Sabina lowered her voice.
“I don't care what Elliott promised. I'm not risking everything because of two frightened little girls.”
Chadworth recognized the name.
Elliott Crane.
His company's longtime general counsel.
A man who had attended Evelyn's funeral.
A man Chadworth trusted with some of his most confidential business affairs.
Sabina continued.
“And tell him to stop worrying about the accident. Nobody ever proved what happened on that bridge.”
Chadworth slowly lowered himself into his chair.
There had been only one important accident involving a bridge in his life.
The accident that had killed his wife.
For twenty-seven months, he had believed Evelyn Prescott died when her vehicle lost control on an icy road.
He had buried her beneath white roses.
He had told his daughters that sometimes terrible things happened without anyone being responsible.
Now Sabina was standing in his living room, speaking about that tragedy as though it were a secret someone had deliberately buried.
On the monitor, she listened to Elliott's response.
May you like
Then she said the words that transformed Chadworth's suspicion into something far more terrible.
“If Chadworth ever finds out what Evelyn recorded before she died, none of us will survive what comes next.”
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