Chapter 5 - THE BOY IN THE SHADOWS
Connor froze in the doorway, the heavy pipe wrench hanging loosely in his right hand. He looked terrified, his eyes darting between me, the smashed oven, and the girls.
“Connor,” I said, my voice dangerously calm as I stood up, wiping the machine oil onto a rag. “What did you do?”
“I didn't mean to,” Connor stammered, stepping backward into the alleyway. “I didn't want to break it. She told me it was the only way!”
“Who told you?” I pressed, taking a slow step toward him. “Sarah?”
“No!” Connor cried out, his voice cracking. He pointed the wrench frantically over his shoulder into the dark alley. “She did!”
A figure stepped out from the shadows of the neighboring building.
It was Victoria.
Not Sarah. Victoria, David’s ex-fiancée from before we were married—a woman who had left town fifteen years ago after a bitter breakup.
Answer one, open two. Connor hadn't been working for Sarah. He had been working for Victoria. But what was Victoria doing back in Pennsylvania, and why was she trying to destroy the bakery?
“Hello, Rachel,” Victoria said smoothly, stepping into the dim light of the back door. She looked older, harder, wearing a sharp business suit that didn't belong in a small-town alleyway at 2:00 a.m.
“Victoria,” I breathed, the pieces slowly clicking together. “You’re the corporate buyer. Vanguard Holdings isn't Sarah’s company. It’s yours.”
Victoria smiled, a cold, empty expression. “Sarah is just a useful idiot. I paid her to bring Maya here as a distraction. While your whole family was fighting over a bastard child, Connor was supposed to ensure the bakery couldn't open tomorrow. A condemned building is one thing; a building with thousands in structural damages is another. Thomas would have begged me to buy the name by morning.”
“Why?” I demanded, standing firmly in front of Grace and Maya. “You left David fifteen years ago. Why come back now to destroy his family’s business?”
Victoria’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated venom. “Because Ruth ruined my life.”
She reached into her designer purse and pulled out a small, worn velvet box. She snapped it open. Inside rested a beautiful, antique diamond engagement ring.
“David proposed to me with this ring,” Victoria said bitterly. “It was Ruth’s grandmother’s ring. But when I told Ruth I didn't want David working in this pathetic flour-covered tomb for the rest of his life, she demanded the ring back. She told David I wasn't family. She convinced him to leave me.”
Victoria looked at Connor. “And when I found out the great Thomas Holloway was planning to hand the business over to this lazy teenager, I realized exactly how to hit them where it hurts. I offered Connor ten thousand dollars to help me secure the brand.”
Connor dropped the wrench, tears streaming down his face. “I didn't want the bakery, Aunt Rachel! I hate baking! Grandpa forces me to be here every weekend. I just wanted a car so I could leave!”
I looked at Connor. He wasn't a villain; he was a trapped, resentful kid being manipulated by a vindictive woman.
“You’re pathetic, Victoria,” I said, my voice steady. “You spent fifteen years nursing a grudge over a ring and a man who didn't want you.”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to take this building, Rachel. And I’m going to bulldoze it.”
She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and tapped the screen. “I’m calling the fire marshal right now. I’ll tell them I smelled gas coming from a condemned building. When they see the severed line Connor cut, you’ll be arrested for trespassing and reckless endangerment. Have fun explaining that to Child Protective Services.”
She raised the phone to her ear.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the front of the bakery.
Someone had just smashed a brick through the front glass door on Main Street.
“What was that?” Victoria snapped, lowering the phone.
Heavy footsteps crunched over the broken glass in the front dining area, moving quickly toward the kitchen.
I grabbed the heavy wooden rolling pin from the prep table, pushing Grace and Maya behind me into the corner near the walk-in freezer.
The swinging kitchen doors burst open.
Standing there, breathing heavily, with blood dripping from a fresh cut on his cheek, was David.
May you like
And he was holding the rusted padlock Sarah had placed on the front doors.
“Victoria,” David said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that I had never heard in twelve years of marriage. “Get out of my mother’s kitchen.”
