Chapter 5
The second set of knocks shattered the fragile lie Veronica had just constructed. The sound was unmistakably human, and it was undeniably desperate.
Audrey did not ask for permission. She did not look at Veronica to gauge her reaction. The graceful, delicate housemaid moved with sudden, urgent purpose. She stepped away from the silver water pitcher on the sideboard and closed the distance to the oversized wooden gift chest resting beside the glittering Christmas tree.
"What are you doing?" Veronica hissed, her polished smile dropping completely as true panic seized her features. "Get away from there! You are ruining the surprise!"
"Stand down, Veronica," Tristan commanded, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that froze the socialite in her chair.
Audrey dropped to her knees on the polished marble floor. The white ruffles of her maid headband fluttered as she leaned over the heavy wooden lid. Her slender fingers, usually so careful and composed, scrambled against the thick metal hardware.
She grabbed the heavy brass bolt. It was stiff, wedged tightly into the locking mechanism to ensure it could not be jostled open. Audrey gritted her teeth, using both hands to violently slide the bolt backward.
The metal scraped loudly, pulling free with a heavy clack.
Audrey hooked her fingers under the edge of the heavy wooden lid and threw it backward.
The warm golden light from the crystal chandeliers poured into the dark, suffocating interior of the oversized chest.
Sitting at the bottom of the box, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, was Maisie Vale.
The five-year-old girl was shaking violently, her face stained with fresh tears and her chest heaving with panicked, shallow breaths. She was wearing her beautiful burgundy Christmas dress, cream stockings, and small dress shoes, just as she had been dressed hours ago. She was clutching the fabric of her skirt with white-knuckled desperation, her large eyes squinting against the sudden, blinding light.
Audrey’s heart shattered. The cruelty of locking a child in a dark, airtight box was beyond comprehension.
She looked up, her expressive eyes wide with horror, bypassing the fifty gasping guests and looking directly at the head of the table.
"Tristan," Audrey said, breaking every rule of formality by using the boss's first name, her voice cracking with raw emotion. "It's Maisie."
The reaction was instantaneous.
Tristan immediately rose from his velvet dining chair. The movement was so explosive, so fueled by raw, terrifying adrenaline, that his heavy chair screeched violently against the marble floor. His broad shoulders squared, his tailored three-piece suit shifting over his muscular frame.
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The entire ballroom erupted into a cacophony of shocked whispers and horrified gasps. Capos stood up, their hands instinctively moving toward their concealed weapons, unsure of where the threat was coming from but reacting to the sudden, lethal energy radiating from their boss.
Tristan bypassed Veronica entirely, his long legs crossing the space to the Christmas tree in three massive strides. He dropped to one knee beside Audrey, his cold, observant eyes taking in the sight of his terrified daughter huddled in the bottom of the wooden chest.
