Chapter 3 - THE PEARL NECKLACE
I held the tiny silver padlock in my palm.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
Victoria hadn't just ignored the oil.
She had poured it.
But why?
Why would a woman who was marrying a billionaire deliberately pour slippery bath oil at the top of a marble staircase?
I slipped the charm into my apron pocket.
I couldn't go to David.
Not yet.
I had no proof other than a broken charm, and Marcus had conveniently stated the cameras were offline.
I went to the staff quarters to change my uniform.
My hands were shaking.
I needed this job.
My mother’s next physical therapy payment was due on Friday.
If I crossed Victoria without absolute proof, she wouldn't just fire me.
She would destroy my reputation.
No one in Dallas would hire me again.
I opened my locker in the breakroom.
I reached for my spare apron.
As I pulled it out, something heavy tumbled from the top shelf.
It hit the linoleum floor with a soft, clicking sound.
I looked down.
My blood ran completely cold.
It was a string of pearls.
Thick, luminous, perfectly matched pearls with a diamond clasp.
I recognized them instantly.
They had belonged to David’s late wife, Elena.
David kept them in a locked glass display case in his private study.
They were meant for Leo’s future bride.
Before I could even bend down to pick them up, the breakroom door swung open.
Victoria stood in the doorway.
Marcus, the head of security, was right behind her.
Victoria looked at the pearls on the floor.
Then she looked at me.
A slow, victorious smile spread across her lips.
“Well,” Victoria said loudly. “I suppose the mystery of the missing necklace is solved.”
I backed away.
“I didn't put those there.”
Marcus stepped into the room.
He bent down and picked up the pearls using a handkerchief.
“These are the late Mrs. Vance’s pearls,” Marcus said, his voice deep and authoritative.
“You set me up,” I said, staring at Victoria.
Victoria gasped, placing a hand over her chest.
“Clara! Are you accusing me of planting stolen jewelry in your locker? After you nearly killed my baby this morning?”
“He’s not your baby,” I said.
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Victoria’s eyes narrowed.
She turned to Marcus.
“Bring her to David’s study. Now.”
Ten minutes later, I was standing in front of David’s massive oak desk.
The pearls were resting on the leather blotter.
David sat in his chair, rubbing his temples.
He looked exhausted.
Victoria stood beside him, resting a manicured hand on his shoulder.
“I knew she was trouble, David,” Victoria murmured. “First the stairs, now this. She’s a thief.”
David looked up at me.
“Clara. I have trusted you in this house for three years.”
“Mr. Vance, I swear to you. I did not take those pearls. I opened my locker and they fell out.”
Marcus crossed his arms.
“Sir, the locker is assigned solely to Clara. No one else has the combination.”
“Someone must have opened it while it was unlocked,” I pleaded.
David sighed.
He looked at the pearls, then at me.
“Theft is a police matter, Clara.”
Tears spilled hot and fast down my cheeks.
“Please, Mr. Vance. Think about my mother. I would never steal from you. I would never risk my job.”
Victoria leaned down.
“People do desperate things when they have hospital bills, David. You can't let her stay. She’s dangerous.”
David closed his eyes.
He opened his mouth to speak.
But a small voice interrupted him from the doorway.
“She didn't steal them.”
Everyone turned.
Standing in the doorway was six-year-old Sam.
David’s oldest son from his first marriage.
He was holding a toy fire truck, his pajamas slightly wrinkled.
David softened immediately.
“Sam, buddy. You should be in the playroom.”
Sam walked into the study.
He pointed his little finger directly at Victoria.
May you like
“Clara didn't take Mommy’s necklace. The lady with the shiny shoes put it in the bag.”
The room went completely silent.
