Chapter 5 - The Letter My Sister Left BehindHalbrook survived.
Barely.
The bullet entered his shoulder rather than his chest.
He was transported to a private clinic before police could reach Sterling House.
Alexander ordered round-the-clock security.
For the first time since I had entered that mansion, the household no longer felt like a home.
It felt like a fortress under siege.
And I was trapped inside it.
Because Alexander refused to let me leave.
“You are a target,” he said.
“I was a target before you knew me.”
“That doesn't make it acceptable.”
“You don't get to decide where I live.”
“No,” he said. “But I can decide whether someone gets close enough to kill you.”
I stared at him.
“Why do you care?”
His answer came immediately.
“Because my wife asked me to protect you.”
That sentence hurt.
More than I expected.
Not because of Alexander.
Because it reminded me that seven years ago, another woman had trusted me with a secret I had been too frightened to carry correctly.
That afternoon, I finally told him about Lucy.
My sister had been twenty-three.
Brilliant.
Stubborn.
Always convinced that powerful people were simply ordinary people with better suits.
She had worked briefly as a financial assistant for Sterling International.
Three months later, she called me.
“Emma, something is wrong.”
“What?”
“The numbers don't make sense.”
“What numbers?”
“Transfers.”
“To where?”
“I don't know yet.”
That was the last normal conversation we ever had.
The next morning, Lucy disappeared.
Police said she was an adult.
Her apartment was empty.
Her phone was gone.
Her bank accounts were frozen.
Every camera near her building had been mysteriously disabled.
Then Alexander's wife found me.
She told me Lucy had uncovered something.
Something involving Sterling family accounts.
Something that could destroy the company.
And she asked me to stay away.
I had obeyed.
Until now.
Alexander listened without interrupting.
Then he asked:
“What did Lucy discover?”
“Money moving through shell companies.”
“For what?”
“I don't know.”
He opened the basement files.
One ledger contained hundreds of coded transfers.
Most were connected to charities, overseas foundations and investment firms.
Then we found the destination account.
A private trust.
The beneficiary name made Alexander go white.
ELEANOR STERLING.
He stared at it.
“That can't be.”
I looked at the document.
The trust had been established fifteen years ago.
Then another name appeared.
NATHANIEL STERLING.
Alexander’s father.
“Your father wasn't dead when this trust was created.”
“He died eighteen years ago.”
“Then why is he listed?”
Alexander said nothing.
We kept reading.
The trust had one final beneficiary.
NOAH STERLING.
Alexander’s eyes narrowed.
“What was my father planning?”
I turned the page.
There was a handwritten note.
When the boy turns six, transfer control.
Alexander looked at me.
“Noah turns six in four months.”
My skin prickled.
Then we found a second note.
If Alexander resists, use the mother.
Alexander stared.
“What mother?”
I whispered:
“Your mother.”
His face hardened.
The next document contained a list.
Employees who had asked questions.
People who had investigated the trust.
People who had been paid.
And people who had disappeared.
At the bottom of the page was Lucy’s name.
Beside it were two words.
Still alive.
I stopped breathing.
Alexander looked at me.
“Emma.”
I pointed.
“She’s alive.”
Before he could answer, a phone on the desk rang.
Neither of us touched it.
It rang again.
Then again.
Alexander finally answered.
A distorted female voice spoke.
“Tell Emma Harper to leave Sterling House tonight.”
Alexander tightened his grip.
“Who is this?”
The voice laughed quietly.
“Ask her sister.”
The call ended.
I stared at Alexander.
“Lucy?”
The phone rang again.
May you like
This time the voice said only one sentence.
“You were never supposed to be the maid.”
Related Stories
