Chapter 6
William stood up slowly, the devastating revelation shattering his entire reality. His chest heaved as the grief and betrayal mutated into a cold, blinding rage. He looked at the heavy oak doors of the study, his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"She killed Sarah," William whispered, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "She killed my wife, and then she buried my son in a wall."
"Mr. Sterling," Emma said softly, standing up from the sofa. She placed a gentle, grounding hand on his forearm. "You need to stay focused. If Isabella is paying off the police chief, calling 911 isn't going to help us. The local authorities might be working for her."
William blinked, his protective instincts fighting through the red haze of his anger. He looked at the young maid, realizing she was absolutely right. The conspiracy was deeper than his own home.
"You're right, Emma," William said, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "My private security team... I don't even know if I can trust them. Isabella hired the new head of security last year."
"Dad, she has a flash drive," Ethan croaked from the sofa, trying to sit up. "The night she caught me, I downloaded everything from her laptop. The bank transfers, the emails to the mechanics who cut Mom's brakes. All of it."
"Where is it?" William demanded, dropping back to his knees. "Did she take it from you?"
"No," Ethan shook his head, wincing in pain. "I knew she was coming for me. I hid it before she dragged me into the cellar and put me in that wall."
"Where did you hide it, Ethan?" Emma asked, her voice urgent.
"In the grand library," Ethan answered, coughing weakly. "Under the third reading desk by the window. I taped it to the underside of the wood."
William looked at the heavy grandfather clock in the corner of the room. It was 12:15 AM. The gala was still raging downstairs, oblivious to the nightmare unfolding above them.
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"I have to go get it," William decided, moving toward his desk to retrieve his personal sidearm from the locked drawer. "Once we have the drive, we can send it directly to the FBI field office in the city. Bypass the local cops entirely."
"No, Mr. Sterling, you can't," Emma interrupted, stepping in his path. "Isabella's men are going to be looking for you. You're the host of the gala. If you disappear into the library, they'll corner you. Let me go."
