Chapter 6 - THE LIE INSIDE THE PERFECT VIDEOBy sunset, Rosamund's name had become a public accusation.
Strangers who had never met her were calling her a thief.
An online commentator declared that wealthy families should be more careful about whom they invited into their homes.
Someone posted an old photograph of Rosamund outside a community college, accompanied by mocking remarks about her background.
Chadworth read the comments for less than a minute before closing his laptop.
He had spent decades observing how quickly a reputation could be built or destroyed.
But he'd never truly considered how differently scandal affected people without money, lawyers, or influence.
For him, a false accusation was an inconvenience.
For Rosamund, it could destroy her livelihood.
He found her sitting at the small table in the service kitchen.
Her phone lay facedown.
She had been crying.
“I'm sorry,” she said when he entered.
Chadworth stopped.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Everyone's talking about your family.”
“You haven't done anything wrong.”
She looked up.
“People don't know that.”
“Then we'll show them.”
Rosamund gave a faint, exhausted smile.
“Sir, most people have already decided what they believe.”
Chadworth sat opposite her.
“Then we start with the people willing to look at the truth.”
He showed her the video.
Rosamund watched silently.
Then she nodded.
“I remember that day.”
“What happened?”
“Miss Sabina said the bracelet's clasp was damaged. She asked me to take it upstairs and put it in the top drawer of her jewelry cabinet until the jeweler came.”
“Why put it in your pocket?”
“Because I was carrying clean sheets and didn't want to drop it.”
“Did you return it?”
“Yes.”
“Can we prove that?”
Rosamund thought.
“Another housekeeper was cleaning the hallway. And Miss Sabina came back into the room while I was putting it away.”
Chadworth called Marcus.
Within an hour, they were studying archived footage from the upstairs hallway.
Rosamund appeared carrying linens.
She entered Sabina's suite.
Several minutes later, Sabina came down the hall.
Rosamund emerged empty-handed.
Sabina entered the suite, opened the jewelry cabinet, removed the bracelet, examined it, and placed it back inside.
The full recording also showed Rosamund checking the time and hurrying toward the laundry room.
There was nothing secretive about her behavior.
Nothing suspicious.
The short video had deliberately removed the moments that proved her innocence.
Marcus frowned at the technical logs.
“There's something strange here.”
Chadworth turned.
“What?”
“The bedroom camera footage wasn't generated by our central system.”
“Then where did it come from?”
“A secondary recording device.”
“Installed by whom?”
“We're still tracing it.”
Cora arrived carrying her laptop.
“I've obtained the publication's preservation notice,” she said. “Their source claimed to possess additional recordings.”
“Can we identify the source?”
“Not immediately. But the video metadata may help.”
Marcus studied the timestamp again.
“The official system was undergoing scheduled maintenance that afternoon.”
“So someone installed a private camera,” Chadworth said.
“That's what it looks like.”
Rosamund stood near the doorway.
“Miss Sabina had a small black device delivered to her room that week.”
Everyone turned.
“She said it was a speaker. She told us not to touch it.”
Marcus made a note.
“Where was it?”
“On the bookshelf facing the dresser.”
Chadworth felt his anger return.
Sabina had accused Rosamund of being secretive while secretly recording her.
She had not merely fabricated a theft.
She had prepared evidence for the accusation.
Cora closed her laptop.
“We have enough to challenge the published story, but we need to preserve the original files and let independent investigators examine them.”
“Do whatever is necessary,” Chadworth said.
Cora looked toward Rosamund.
“And Rosamund should have her own legal counsel.”
“I'll cover the cost,” Chadworth said immediately.
Rosamund hesitated.
“I don't want more money from you.”
“This isn't a favor in exchange for silence,” Cora explained. “You have your own rights. An independent attorney can protect them.”
Rosamund considered that.
Then she nodded.
“Thank you.”
That evening, another crisis arrived.
Prescott Meridian's board chairman called Chadworth directly.
Several directors had received copies of the same video, along with allegations that Chadworth had used his household security system to spy on employees.
Someone was pushing the story beyond a personal scandal.
Someone wanted to damage his control of the company.
“We need an emergency board meeting,” the chairman said.
Chadworth glanced toward the old photograph of Evelyn on his desk.
“Schedule it.”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“I'll be there.”
“And Chadworth?”
“Yes?”
“Elliott Crane has requested that the board consider temporarily restricting your executive authority until these accusations are reviewed.”
Chadworth's jaw tightened.
“On what grounds?”
“Reputational risk. Potential litigation. Concerns about judgment.”
Of course.
First Sabina had tried to destroy Rosamund's credibility.
Now Elliott was targeting his.
Chadworth understood the pattern.
They didn't need to defeat him in a direct confrontation.
They only needed to make everyone around him believe he couldn't be trusted.
He ended the call and found Cora waiting.
“They're moving quickly,” he said.
“That suggests they're afraid of something.”
“The ledger.”
“Possibly.”
Chadworth looked out toward the garden.
Somewhere beyond the trees stood Evelyn's abandoned greenhouse.
He considered opening it immediately.
But the girls had finally fallen asleep peacefully, and Cora had insisted that investigators first document the property rather than risk disturbing potential evidence.
He reluctantly agreed.
At 11:42 p.m., the security system sounded a discreet warning.
Marcus called.
“Sir, we've detected movement near the greenhouse.”
Chadworth rushed downstairs.
On the monitor, a dark figure moved between the trees.
The person wore gloves and carried what appeared to be a metal case.
The figure stopped beside the greenhouse door.
Then the screen went black.
Marcus attempted to restore the connection.
Nothing.
A second later, Chadworth's phone vibrated.
The message came from an unknown number.
There was no greeting.
No explanation.
Only a photograph of Lorelai and Gemma taken earlier that afternoon through the sunroom window.
May you like
Beneath the image was a single sentence.
STOP LOOKING FOR EVELYN'S LEDGER, OR NEXT TIME THE GIRLS WON'T BE SO LUCKY.
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