Chapter 4 - The Threat at the Gate
The next morning, the Carver estate was on complete high alert. The sweeping lawn overlooking the gray, stormy waters of the Narragansett Bay was patrolled by heavy-set men in dark coats. Martin Hale, the old steward, entered my temporary bedroom in the guest wing carrying a tray of hot tea and a plate of toast.
"You look better, child," Martin said gently, setting the tray down. "The color has returned to your cheeks."
"Thank you, Mr. Hale," I said, sitting up against the pillows. I touched the short, jagged edge of my hair. "And thank you for warning me about Claire last night. You were right."
Martin let out a soft sigh, his old eyes filled with a paternal warmth. "Claire Whitlock is a woman who believes the world can be bought and broken to suit her whims. But she forgot that Daniel Carver does not break. He burns."
Before I could take a sip of the tea, the sound of a roaring car engine echoed from the driveway downstairs. I walked over to the window and pulled back the heavy velvet curtains.
A sleek black sports car had blown past the main security gate, screeching to a halt right in front of the fountain. Claire Whitlock stepped out, wearing a sharp designer suit, her eyes hidden behind large sunglasses. Behind her, two large SUVs parked, out of which stepped six heavily armed private security guards wearing the Whitlock shipping logo.
"Daniel!" Claire’s voice shrieked through the morning air as she marched toward the front doors. "Open this door right now! You cannot cancel our engagement over a pathetic servant! My father is already meeting with the dock unions! We will ruin you by noon!"
Daniel stepped out onto the grand stone portico, completely alone, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked completely unbothered by the six armed men pointing weapons toward his chest.
"Claire," Daniel said, his voice carrying an effortless authority that made her security guards hesitate. "You were warned last night. You have exactly thirty seconds to turn these cars around before I introduce your men to the real rules of the Providence waterfront."
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"I don't care about your rules anymore, Daniel!" Claire screamed, ripping her sunglasses off to reveal eyes wild with humiliated desperation. "That maid is a nobody! A penniless widow whose husband died because he was too stupid to look where he was walking! If you don't reinstate our engagement contract today, I will personally see to it that she is evicted from whatever hole she crawls into, and her baby will grow up in a state ward just like her pathetic husband did!"
I stood by the window, my blood running cold at her venomous words. But before Claire could finish her sentence, a fleet of four unmarked black utility vans tore around the corner of the driveway, completely blocking the Whitlock SUVs from behind.
