Chapter 4 - The Truth in the Archives
Ten minutes later, the grand salon was entirely empty of guests. The champagne flutes sat half-empty on silver trays; the string quartet had packed their instruments and slipped out the service doors; and the sparkling crystal chandeliers cast a harsh, unforgiving light over the polished mahogany furniture.
Evelyn Rothwell sat near the grand piano, looking gorgeous and slightly confused as she adjusted her diamond necklace.
The heavy double doors swung open.
Nathaniel walked in, his tall silhouette cutting across the room like a shadow. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket anymore; his shirtsleeves were rolled up, and his gray eyes carried a storm that made the temperature in the room plummet.
— Nathaniel, darling, Evelyn said, flashing a bright, practiced smile as she stood up. What is the meaning of this? The guests have all been asked to leave. People are talking. They’ll think there's a scandal—
— There is a scandal, Evelyn, Nathaniel interrupted, his voice calm, measured, and terrifyingly cold.
He didn't stop walking until he stood three feet away from her. He pulled his smartphone from his pocket, tapped the screen twice, and turned it around so the display faced her.
On the screen, the high-definition security loop of the service pantry played on a continuous loop—showing her face, her dress, her jewelry, and her exact movements as she dropped the sapphire bracelet into Claire’s bag.
Evelyn’s breath hitched.
The color drained from her face so fast she looked like a marble statue. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
— I... I don't know what that is, Evelyn stammered, her hands trembling as she took a step backward. That’s... that’s a deepfake! Anyone can manipulate video files these days! You can't possibly believe that a common maid—
— Do not call her a common maid, Nathaniel said, his voice dropping into a register that made the glass on the nearby bar cart vibrate.
He tossed his phone onto the grand piano with a sharp thud.
— Claire has more integrity in her little finger than your entire bloodline has accumulated over three generations of social climbing. You framed an innocent woman because you felt threatened by her presence in this house. You thought you could use my estate as a chessboard for your petty cruelty.
— Nathaniel, please! Evelyn’s composure shattered completely. Tears sprang to her eyes, genuine and panicked now. It was just a joke! A lesson! She was getting too comfortable around you, everyone was noticing how much attention you paid to the staff—I just wanted to put her in her place—
— Your place, Evelyn, Nathaniel interrupted, stepping closer until she was trapped against the polished wood of the piano, is no longer in this house.
He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a gold-embossed checkbook, and clicked a heavy Montblanc pen.
— Your father’s shipping contracts with Whitmore Global are terminated as of midnight. Your personal accounts tied to this estate’s foundation are frozen. Dominic is waiting outside with your luggage, and your car is idling in the driveway.
Evelyn stared at him, horror dawning in her eyes. — You’re ruining me. Over a maid? You’re cutting off my family over a servant?!
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— You didn't just target a servant, Evelyn, Nathaniel said quietly, his eyes burning with absolute fury. You targeted someone under my roof. And in this house, my word is law.
Without waiting for another word, he turned his back on her, leaving her standing alone in the grand salon as the reality of her total destruction crashed down around her.
