Chapter 3 - THE DRAWER OF LIES
The stainless-steel kitchen was warm, the heavy mahogany doors shutting out the bitter chill of the foyer. Nathaniel sat Grace at the granite island and retrieved a first-aid kit from the pantry. With surprising gentleness for a man of his stature, he began cleaning the cracked, bleeding skin around her fingernails with an antiseptic wipe.
"Tell me the truth, Grace," he said softly, not looking up from her hands. "What did you see? Victoria doesn't punish people out of mere boredom. She does it out of fear. What were you 'snooping' for?"
Grace hesitated. She was terrified of losing her job, the only thing keeping a roof over her and her twelve-year-old son Noah's heads. But looking at the genuine concern in Nathaniel's eyes, she knew she had to speak.
"I wasn't snooping, Mr. Caldwell," she whispered, her voice raspy from exhaustion. "Three weeks ago, I was putting away the dry cleaning in Miss Ashford's guest suite. The bottom drawer of her vanity was stuck. When I tried to push it closed, a false bottom shifted."
Nathaniel paused, his thumb lightly resting against her palm. "What was under it?"
Grace swallowed hard. "Folders. Bank statements. They weren't in your name, but they had the Caldwell Enterprise logo on them. Huge transfers—millions of dollars—being routed to offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. And... there was a contract. It was signed by her and Arthur Vance."
Nathaniel froze. Arthur Vance was his fiercest corporate rival, a man who had been trying to launch a hostile takeover of Caldwell Enterprises for two years.
"She’s bleeding your company dry, Mr. Caldwell," Grace said, her voice shaking. "She realized I had seen the papers when she came into the room unexpectedly. Ever since that day, she's been trying to break me so I would quit before I could tell you."
Nathaniel stared at the wall for a long time, the pieces of the puzzle violently snapping into place. The missing capital. The sudden drop in stock prices. Victoria’s insistence on pushing their wedding date forward.
"You're not going back to your apartment tonight," Nathaniel said decisively, bandaging her final finger. "If she knows you know, you and your son aren't safe. Where is he?"
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"At home, in Queens. With a neighbor," Grace panicked, trying to stand. "I have to get to him."
"I will send my personal security team right now," Nathaniel promised, pressing gently on her shoulders to keep her seated. "They will bring Noah here. From now on, you both stay under my protection."
