Chapter 2 - The Setup in the Library
Only thirty minutes earlier, the entire nightmare had exploded inside Richard’s private library—a room lined with leather-bound first editions and smelling faintly of aged cedar and expensive scotch.
Emily had been dusting the mahogany bookshelves when Victoria Lane glided into the room, her designer heels clicking softly against the Persian rug. Victoria was stunning, calculating, and ruthless beneath her polished, aristocratic smile. She had been moving into the Hawthorne estate piece by piece, tightening her grip on Richard and preparing for their upcoming wedding.
Victoria despised Emily. She hated the quiet competence with which Emily managed the household, and she especially hated the way the triplets naturally gravitated toward Emily instead of looking at Victoria as a future mother figure.
Without a word of warning, Victoria had unclasped her expensive, diamond-encrusted gold Rolex from her wrist, dropped it directly into Emily’s open canvas cleaning tote bag sitting on the floor, and stepped back with a chilling, knowing smirk.
A moment later, the heavy oak doors opened, and Richard walked in, rubbing his temples after an exhausting morning of international conference calls.
Victoria immediately shifted into her performance, her posture drooping into a picture of fragile distress.
"Richard, thank goodness you’re here," Victoria said, her voice trembling with manufactured anxiety.
Richard paused, looking at her. "What is it, Victoria? I have a board meeting in ten minutes."
"I... I didn't want to say anything, because I know how much you value her staff loyalty," Victoria murmured, casting a glance toward Emily, who stood frozen by the bookshelf. "But my Rolex—the heirloom my grandfather gave me—has been missing since yesterday. I just checked her cleaning bag."
Victoria reached down, thrust her hand into Emily’s canvas tote, and pulled out the golden watch as if pulling a venomous snake from a nest.
"She stole my watch, Richard," Victoria said softly, her voice dripping with venomous innocence. "Emily’s been stealing from us."
Emily’s breath had caught in her throat. She stared at the watch in Victoria’s hand, her mind racing as she realized the sheer, flawless malice of the trap. She opened her mouth to speak, to defend herself, to explain that she had never touched the watch in her life—but she never even got the chance.
Richard Hawthorne never hesitated.
Not for a single microsecond.
Three years of unblemished service, loyalty, and quiet dedication meant absolutely nothing against the word of the woman he intended to marry. He didn't pause to analyze the situation, didn't ask Emily for her side of the story, and didn't think about how Emily had devoted every waking hour to his motherless sons.
In that single, catastrophic moment of judgment, Richard saw only two things:
A wealthy, sophisticated woman belonging to his own social class.
And a lowly maid standing beside an open bag holding stolen goods.
The verdict was instantaneous and absolute.
"Get out of my house!" Richard had shouted, his voice echoing off the library walls with terrifying authority. "And if you ever come near my children again, I’ll have you arrested and thrown in prison!"
Then, with a gesture of supreme, casual cruelty, he pulled a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills from his tailored jacket pocket and threw them onto the floor at her feet, as though she were nothing more than a common thief being paid off to vanish from his sight.
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Emily never looked down at the money. She didn't touch a single bill.
She turned on her heel, grabbed her suitcase, and walked away from the mansion—never realizing that within minutes, a chain of events would unfold that would leave the billionaire frozen in unspeakable horror.
