Chapter 2 - The Whispering Mansion
The wrought-iron gates of the Hartman Estate opened silently, allowing the sleek black vehicle to glide up the winding, tree-lit driveway toward the massive Tudor mansion.
For six months, the estate had been dark, cold, and lifeless. But as Michael carried Lily through the grand oak front doors, the house seemed to awaken.
An elderly butler in a pristine suit hurried into the grand foyer, his eyes widening in complete shock.
"Mr. Hartman!" Arthur, the longtime family butler, gasped. "Good heavens, sir! You are covered in mud! And... who is this?"
"Arthur, tell Mrs. Gable to heat up some chicken soup immediately," Michael ordered, setting Lily down onto the heated marble floor of the foyer. "And prepare the guest suite on the second floor. Get warm towels and the softest clothes we have."
Arthur stared at the little girl standing in the middle of the breathtaking foyer. Lily looked terrified, her bare feet leaving wet footprints on the white marble as she looked up at the towering crystal chandelier above.
"Right away, sir," Arthur said, a rare, genuine smile breaking across his aged face. For the first time since the tragedy, he saw a spark of life back in his master's eyes.
Half an hour later, Lily was sitting on a plush sofa in the warm library, wrapped in a oversized cashmere sweater that belonged to Emily, her wet hair brushed neat, eating her third bowl of hot soup. Michael sat across from her in a leather armchair, holding a warm cup of coffee, watching her with a quiet, protective intensity.
"This soup tastes like real food," Lily said, her cheeks rosy from the warmth of the roaring fireplace. "Not like the stale bread from the bakery dumpster."
Michael’s chest tightened. "You won't ever have to eat out of a dumpster again, Lily. Where are your parents? How did you end up alone in the park?"
Lily set her spoon down, her eyes looking down at her bare toes.
"My mom died in the hospital two years ago," she said softly. "A man named Mr. Vance came and took our apartment away. He said my mom owed him money for rent. He took me to a big blue house with lots of other kids, but... but the adults there were mean. They took my mother's silver ring away from me. So I ran away."
"Vance?" Michael repeated, his brows furrowing. "Julian Vance?"
Lily nodded fearfully. "He had a sharp face and smelled like old cigars. He told me if I ever came back, he’d put me in a place where I’d never see the sky again."
Michael’s blood ran cold. Julian Vance was a notorious slumlord and the chief financial officer of Hartman Mining’s primary competitor, Apex Holdings. Vance was known across Denver for predatory housing schemes and ruthless corporate tactics.
Before Michael could ask further, Arthur stepped into the library, holding a silver tray with a digital tablet.
"Pardon the interruption, Mr. Hartman," Arthur said softly. "Your board of directors has called an emergency session for nine o'clock tomorrow morning. Your brother-in-law, Richard, has filed a petition to freeze your corporate voting rights, citing emotional instability following Mrs. Hartman's passing."
Michael’s eyes narrowed into slits of ice.
Richard—Emily’s greedy, estranged brother—had been trying to seize control of Hartman Mining ever since Emily died. He knew Michael had been incapacitated by grief, and now he was moving in for the kill.
May you like
Michael looked at Lily, who was yawning softly, her eyelids growing heavy as she held her one-armed doll, Rosie.
"Let him try," Michael said coldly, standing up. "Arthur, assign two private security officers to guard Lily’s room tonight. No one enters this house without my explicit permission."
