Chapter 1 - The Silver Lighter and the Marble ColumnI came home three days early to surprise the woman I planned to marry—and found our housekeeper tied to a marble column, crying while Vanessa held a silver lighter inches from her cheek. The flame flickered between them as Vanessa hissed, “Maybe now you’ll remember who owns this house.”
For one second, I couldn’t move.
“Vanessa.”
She spun around.
The lighter snapped shut.
“Elijah!” Her face went pale. “You’re supposed to be in London.”
Maria, our housekeeper for eleven years, struggled against the rope around her waist and wrists. Tears streaked her face.
I set my suitcase down.
“What happened?”
Vanessa recovered quickly.
That was one of her talents.
She straightened her purple dress and rolled her eyes. “Your precious Maria stole from me.”
“I didn’t,” Maria whispered.
“Quiet!”
Vanessa raised her hand.
I caught her wrist before she could strike Maria.
“Don’t.”
Her expression hardened.
“You believe the maid over your future wife?”
I released her slowly.
“I believe evidence.”
Vanessa laughed.
“You’re unbelievable. I’m trying to protect your home while you’re away negotiating billion-dollar acquisitions.”
My name is Elijah Mercer. At forty-two, I controlled Mercer Aerospace, a company my father started in a rented warehouse and I turned into an international manufacturer.
According to magazines, I was ruthless.
According to Vanessa, I was easy to manipulate.
For eighteen months, I had let her believe that.
She thought my patience was weakness. She mocked my preference for quiet dinners, complained that I treated employees “like family,” and constantly reminded me that wealthy men needed wives who understood status.
Maria had worked for my parents before working for me.
She had held my mother’s hand during chemotherapy.
She had attended my father’s funeral.
And now she was tied to a column in the house my parents built.
I took out my phone.
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Oh, please. Are you calling security?”
“No.”
I locked the front door.
Her confidence flickered.
“Then who?”
I looked at Maria.
“First, I’m calling an ambulance.”
“She’s fine.”
I stared at Vanessa until she looked away.
Then I said, “After that, the police.”
Her mouth opened.
“You cannot be serious.”
I crouched beside Maria and cut the rope with the small utility knife on my keychain.
Her hands were shaking.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mercer.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Vanessa scoffed. “Wonderful. Comfort the thief.”
Maria looked at me.
“She knows.”
Vanessa froze.
I turned.
“Knows what?”
Maria swallowed.
“About the cameras.”
Silence filled the foyer.
Vanessa’s face changed.
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And that was when I knew what my private investigator had discovered in London wasn’t the worst secret waiting for me at home.
Not even close.
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