Chapter 3 - THE LAUNDRY ROOM SECRETS
The descent into the lower levels of Ashford Hall felt like stepping into a different world. Away from the sunlight, the orchids, and the champagne flutes, the servant corridors were utilitarian, lined with stainless steel and fluorescent lights.
Ethan bypassed the bustling catering kitchen and headed straight for the laundry facilities. His heart was pounding against his ribs, a sickening mixture of betrayal and fury rising in his throat. He had built his empire on a foundation of respect for his workers. He knew the names of the dishwashers at his first hotel; he paid for his employees' college tuitions. The idea that someone was being abused under his own roof—by the woman he was about to marry—made him physically ill.
He pushed open the heavy double doors of the laundry wing. The smell of bleach and hot steam hit him instantly.
“Nora?” he called out.
From behind a towering row of industrial washing machines, there was a sharp clatter, like a metal bucket being dropped. Ethan moved swiftly down the aisle.
He found Nora Hayes sitting on the linoleum floor, frantically shoving folded staff uniforms into a cheap canvas duffel bag. She was twenty-eight, but today she looked a decade older. Dark circles bruised the skin under her panicked green eyes. When she saw Ethan towering over her in his bespoke wedding suit, she scrambled backward, pressing herself against the vibrating metal of a washing machine.
“Mr. Caldwell!” she gasped, her voice trembling violently. “I’m sorry, I’m leaving! I swear, I’m getting out right now. Please don't call the police.”
Ethan stopped, holding his hands up, palms open, to show he wasn't a threat. “Nora, breathe. Why would I call the police?”
Tears spilled over her eyelashes, tracking through a smudge of lint on her cheek. She hugged her knees to her chest, her breathing erratic. “Miss Vivian said... she said if I didn't pack up and leave out the back gate before the ceremony started, she would tell you I stole her diamond tennis bracelet. She said she’d planted it in my locker to make sure.”
Ethan felt the floor drop out from under him. “She blackmailed you?”
Nora gave a miserable, choked sob, nodding furiously. “She’s been doing it for months, Mr. Caldwell. Ever since I accidentally walked in on her on the phone in the study.”
Ethan knelt on the hard floor, ignoring the dirt transferring to his expensive trousers. “What was she doing on the phone, Nora?”
Nora squeezed her eyes shut. “She was talking to a man. A banker, I think. She was laughing about how easy it was to funnel money from your foundation. She called you... she called you a 'guillible ATM.'”
Ethan’s jaw locked. The Caldwell Harbor Foundation was his life’s philanthropic work, dedicated to affordable housing in Baltimore.
“She caught me listening,” Nora whispered, pulling up the sleeve of her oversized gray sweater.
Ethan inhaled sharply. Around Nora’s pale wrist was a tapestry of fading yellow-and-purple bruises, overlapping with fresh, angry red marks shaped perfectly like human fingertips.
“She grabbed me,” Nora cried softly. “She told me if I said a word, she’d have me arrested for theft. She said because of my past... my husband’s criminal record... Child Services would take Lily away in a heartbeat. I couldn't lose my baby, Mr. Caldwell. I couldn't.”
“Nora,” Ethan said, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out, gently placing a hand over hers. “Look at me.”
May you like
She opened her eyes, terrified.
“No one is taking Lily. No one is calling the police on you. And you are not leaving this house.” Ethan stood up, his eyes burning with a dark, dangerous fire. “But Vivian is.”
