Chapter 3 - The Locked Office
Charles lunged toward Marissa.
One of Adrian’s bodyguards stepped between them instantly.
“Move!” Charles snapped.
The guard didn’t.
Detective Reyes pointed toward Charles.
“Do that again and you’ll be in cuffs.”
Charles stopped.
Marissa flinched anyway.
Elena touched her shoulder.
“You’re safe.”
Marissa nodded, but tears had already formed in her eyes.
Bianca stared between them.
“What are you talking about?”
Marissa looked at her.
“Your father kept a second office.”
Charles closed his eyes.
For half a second.
That was enough.
Bianca saw it.
“A second office where?”
Marissa pointed toward the ceiling.
“Twenty-third floor.”
Charles laughed.
“That floor is private storage.”
“No,” Marissa said. “Part of it is.”
She looked at Detective Reyes.
“The room is behind the old wine archive.”
Reyes turned to another detective.
“Call the team upstairs.”
Charles spoke sharply.
“There is no room.”
Marissa reached into her pocket.
She produced a brass key.
“There is.”
Charles stared at it.
His control cracked.
“Where did you get that?”
Marissa’s voice shook.
“You left it in my apartment.”
The ballroom erupted.
Bianca’s head snapped toward her father.
“What?”
Charles’s face went white.
Marissa looked sick saying it.
“I was nineteen when I started working here.”
“Stop talking,” Charles said.
“I thought he cared about me.”
“Marissa.”
“He told me nobody would believe a banquet worker if I ever talked.”
Bianca looked at her father.
“You were sleeping with her?”
Charles spun toward his daughter.
“This is not the place.”
“Were you?”
He said nothing.
Bianca stepped back.
She looked physically ill.
Marissa’s chin trembled.
“It wasn’t just me.”
Charles shouted, “That’s enough!”
Detective Reyes grabbed his wrist.
“Mr. Sterling.”
Charles looked at her hand.
“Take your hand off me.”
“Then stop threatening witnesses.”
Adrian moved closer to Elena.
“You knew about this?”
“No.”
“You only knew about the money?”
“And the payroll threats.”
Elena looked at Marissa.
“She never mentioned this.”
Marissa whispered, “I was scared.”
Elena squeezed her hand.
“I know.”
Suddenly one of the detectives upstairs spoke through Reyes’s radio.
“We found the hidden door.”
Everyone nearby went silent.
Reyes lifted the radio.
“Proceed.”
Static.
Then:
“Room is locked.”
Marissa gave Reyes the key.
“There are cameras inside.”
Charles jerked toward her.
“You stupid little—”
Adrian stepped forward.
“Finish that sentence.”
Charles looked at him.
Adrian didn’t raise his voice.
He didn’t need to.
Charles stopped.
Bianca began backing away from her father.
All evening she had carried herself like royalty.
Now she looked like a child discovering the throne beneath her had been made of cardboard.
Her phone buzzed.
She looked down.
Her eyes widened.
“What?”
Nobody answered.
Her phone buzzed again.
And again.
Then dozens of phones began ringing across the ballroom.
Guests were checking social media.
The video of Bianca slapping Elena had already been uploaded.
Someone whispered, “It has two hundred thousand views.”
Another voice:
“Her name is trending.”
Bianca snatched a phone from one of her friends.
“No.”
The footage showed everything.
The slap.
The blood.
Her voice saying, Look at me when I speak to you.
Then Adrian’s entrance.
Who touched my wife?
The video ended with Elena’s counter-slap.
Millions would probably see it by morning.
Bianca looked around the ballroom.
Her social circle was already stepping away from her.
Literally.
People who had laughed with her twenty minutes ago were suddenly finding reasons to stand somewhere else.
“No,” she whispered.
Then Reyes’s radio crackled again.
“We’re inside the room.”
A pause.
Reyes frowned.
“What do you have?”
The detective upstairs sounded disturbed.
“Files.”
“What kind?”
“Employee profiles. Photos. Personal information.”
Marissa covered her mouth.
The detective continued.
“And there’s a safe.”
Reyes looked at Marissa.
“Combination?”
Marissa shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Charles suddenly smiled.
It was the first time he had looked calm since the police arrived.
“You won’t open it.”
Reyes stared at him.
“We will.”
“You can try.”
Adrian watched Charles closely.
“Why are you smiling?”
Charles turned to him.
“Because whatever story your wife thinks she discovered ends upstairs.”
Then Elena noticed something.
Charles’s right hand had slipped into his jacket.
She saw a tiny black object between his fingers.
A remote.
May you like
“Adrian!”
Charles pressed the button.
