Chapter 4 - The Pearl Earrings
“Daniel!” I screamed, spinning away from the window. “The police who took Vivian—they weren’t cops! They’re still outside!”
Daniel snapped out of his shock, dropping the photograph of Arthur and Vivian. He ran to the window, his face going pale as he saw the two men in uniform standing by the gate, smoking cigarettes, while Vivian stood safely between them.
“They faked the arrest to get her out of the house without a fight,” Daniel realized, his voice trembling. “Arthur set this up. He controlled security.”
“We need to get Emma,” I said, sprinting down the hall back to the bedroom.
I burst through the door.
The bed was empty.
The blue teddy bear lay abandoned on the carpet.
“Emma?!” Daniel yelled, pushing past me. He tore open the closet doors. He checked the en suite bathroom.
She was gone.
My heart felt like it was going to explode. I ran to the open window at the far side of the room. The cold night air whipped the sheer curtains. Below, a heavy trellis led down to the gardens.
“They took her,” I gasped, leaning out.
“No, no, no,” Daniel repeated, gripping his hair in panic. “Emma! EMMA!”
He turned to run downstairs, but I grabbed his arm.
“Daniel, stop! We can’t just run out there. If Vivian’s men are at the gates, they’ll kill us. We need leverage.”
“Leverage? They have my daughter, Lily!”
“And we have the key,” I reminded him, my mind working at a million miles an hour. “The brass key Arthur found in the Bible. The one to Charles’s private bank box.”
Daniel stopped, his chest heaving. “Arthur kept the key. He put it in his pocket downstairs.”
“Then we have to find Arthur before they do.”
We slipped out the back staircase, avoiding the main foyer where the remaining staff were cleaning up the funeral arrangements. We moved through the shadows of the massive estate, making our way toward Arthur Kane’s private guest cottage near the tennis courts.
The cottage was dark.
Daniel kicked the door open, not caring about the noise anymore.
We rushed inside. The place was violently ransacked. Bookshelves were tipped over. Drawers were pulled out and dumped on the Persian rugs.
Someone had beaten us here.
“Arthur!” Daniel shouted into the darkness.
No answer.
I fumbled for a lamp switch and flicked it on.
The living room was a disaster zone. But sitting perfectly in the center of the coffee table, untouched by the chaos, was a small black velvet jewelry box.
I walked over to it slowly, feeling a deep sense of dread.
I opened the box.
Inside rested a pair of flawless, teardrop pearl earrings.
I stumbled backward, my breath catching in my throat. I couldn’t breathe. The room started to spin.
“Lily?” Daniel asked, rushing to my side. “What is it? Are you hurt?”
I pointed a shaking finger at the earrings.
“Those… those belonged to my mother,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. “She wore them every day. She was wearing them the day she died.”
Daniel looked confused. “Your mother? Why would Arthur have your mother’s earrings?”
My mother, Elena Harper, had died of a sudden aneurysm when I was twelve. She was a working-class woman who cleaned office buildings downtown. She had absolutely no connection to the billionaires of Beverly Hills.
Or so I thought.
I reached into the box. Underneath the velvet padding holding the earrings, a small folded piece of paper was tucked away.
I pulled it out and opened it.
It was a birth certificate.
Name: Lily Harper.
Mother: Elena Harper.
Father: Charles Westwood.
The paper slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the floor like a dead leaf.
“Oh my god,” Daniel breathed, reading the document. He looked up at me, his eyes wide with shock. “You’re… you’re my sister.”
I backed away, shaking my head violently. “No. No, that’s impossible. My mother never told me. She never had any money. We struggled every day of our lives!”
“Because Charles didn't know,” a weak, raspy voice groaned from the corner of the room.
Daniel and I spun around.
Slumped behind a leather armchair, bleeding heavily from a wound on his forehead, was Arthur Kane.
The seventy-year-old attorney looked frail and broken. He clutched his side, gasping for air.
Daniel lunged forward, grabbing Arthur by the lapels of his ruined suit. “Where is my daughter, Arthur?! Where is Emma?!”
“I don't have her, Daniel,” Arthur coughed, spitting blood onto the carpet. “Vivian took her.”
“Why?!” Daniel screamed, shaking the old man. “Why are you working with that monster? You were my father’s best friend!”
“Because I had no choice,” Arthur wept, his silver hair matted with blood. “Vivian… Vivian isn't who you think she is, Daniel.”
I knelt beside him, my mind reeling from the revelation of my parentage. “Arthur, please. What is going on? Why did you have my mother’s earrings?”
Arthur looked at me with deep, profound regret.
“Charles found out about you three months ago, Lily,” Arthur wheezed. “He hired the private investigator. He found out Elena had a child. His child. And he found out you were tutoring Emma. He was going to change the will. He was going to leave half the company to you.”
“To me?” I asked, stunned.
“Yes. But Vivian found out. She found the investigator’s report.” Arthur coughed violently. “She couldn't let you get the money. Because Vivian needs the Westwood fortune to settle a debt.”
“What debt?” Daniel demanded.
Arthur looked Daniel dead in the eye.
“The debt of blood, Daniel. Vivian Cross is not her real name. Her real name is Vivian Vance. She is Sarah’s younger sister.”
Daniel froze, the color completely draining from his face. “Sarah didn't have a sister.”
“She did,” Arthur whispered. “A sister your father paid to disappear after the car accident. Because Charles knew the truth about how Sarah died.”
Arthur reached into his blood-soaked pocket with trembling fingers.
He pulled out the brass key to the bank box and pressed it into my hand.
“You have to go to the bank, Lily,” Arthur pleaded. “The box doesn't contain a will. It contains the evidence Charles collected. The evidence that proves who really cut the brake lines on Sarah’s car ten years ago.”
Before we could ask another question, the burner phone in Arthur’s jacket pocket began to ring.
Arthur’s eyes widened in sheer terror.
He slowly pulled the ringing phone out and handed it to Daniel.
Daniel answered it on speakerphone.
“Hello?” Daniel said, his voice shaking.
“Hello, Daniel,” Vivian’s voice sang through the speaker, crisp and cruel. “I have Emma. And she is perfectly safe. For now.”
“If you hurt one hair on her head—” Daniel snarled.
“I won't hurt her. I love my niece,” Vivian replied coldly. “But I want that brass key. Bring it to the old summer cabin at Lake Arrowhead by midnight. Come alone. Or Emma goes for a swim she won't come back from.”
The line went dead.
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I looked down at the brass key in my hand.
It was the only thing keeping Emma alive. But it was also the only thing that could expose the rot at the heart of my new, terrifying family.
