Chapter 5 - The Ashworth Son Who Was ErasedEveryone moved at once.
Grant Holloway drew his weapon. Desmond pushed Lady Margaret behind the desk, and Chen closed the metal case with a sharp click.
Theron ran toward the staircase.
“Vivienne!”
Eleanor followed before anyone could stop her.
The gunshot had come from the west corridor, where the guest bedrooms overlooked the rose garden. She reached the landing and saw a maid running away from an open doorway.
Inside, the curtains moved in the draft.
A vase had shattered beside the bed.
And Vivienne was gone.
“Find her!” Theron shouted.
Security guards flooded the corridor. One ran toward the garden, another toward the servants' stairs.
Eleanor stopped beside the broken window.
A thin trail of blood marked the windowsill.
Someone had been shot.
But there was no body.
Theron grabbed her arm.
“Get back downstairs.”
She pulled free.
“Who was your brother?”
His expression was savage.
“Now is not the time.”
“You can't keep saying that every time I ask about my family.”
“Eleanor, you don't understand what you're dealing with.”
“Then explain it.”
He looked over his shoulder at the guards.
For the first time since their marriage, he seemed to be searching for a private room in which to tell the truth.
“There were three Ashworth children,” he said finally. “My older brother, Adrian, was the heir. I was the spare. My father believed Adrian was weak because he refused to participate in the family business.”
“What family business?”
“His companies were used to conceal illegal transactions. Adrian found out and threatened to expose him.”
“That's why the photograph was hidden?”
“My father erased Adrian from the family records. He told everyone that he had been sent abroad.”
“Was he the boy in the photograph?”
Theron nodded.
“Richard Kingsley took him in.”
Eleanor felt sick.
“How long did you know?”
“Since I was sixteen.”
“And you said nothing?”
“My father threatened to kill Adrian if I told anyone where he was.”
She stared at him.
“So you married me because my father knew your brother?”
Theron's face became unreadable.
“I married you because I thought I could find Adrian's location through you.”
The admission hit harder than the blow in the basement.
For seven years, he had shared her bed, celebrated birthdays with her, and held her hand through nightmares about her dead family.
All of it had been a search.
“You never loved me.”
He did not answer.
“Did you ever intend to?”
“Eleanor, I did love you.”
“Then you should have told me the truth.”
“I couldn't.”
“You could have told me yesterday. You could have told me seven years ago. You could have told me before you let that woman drag me into the basement.”
His jaw clenched.
“I never ordered anyone to hurt you.”
“You ordered everyone to believe her.”
He flinched.
It was the first time she had seen guilt on his face.
For a moment, she almost wanted to believe it meant something.
Then a phone vibrated in his pocket.
He answered.
“What?”
A muffled voice spoke rapidly.
Theron went rigid.
“Where?”
He listened for another second, then whispered, “Keep him alive.”
The call ended.
Eleanor stepped toward him.
“Who was that?”
He put the phone away.
“No one.”
“Theron.”
He stared at her.
“They found a man near the river.”
“Who?”
“Someone who matches Adrian's description.”
Her heart hammered.
“Is he alive?”
“I don't know.”
“Then we're going to find him.”
“No.”
Eleanor laughed without humor.
“You don't get to decide that anymore.”
She started toward the stairs.
Theron caught her wrist.
“Listen to me. Adrian disappeared because he knew too much. If he comes back, the people who killed your parents will come after him again.”
“Then perhaps we should find them first.”
His expression hardened.
“You think Chen can protect you? He couldn't even protect your brother.”
Behind them, Chen appeared at the landing.
“Mr. Ashworth,” he said quietly, “I suggest you stop confusing restraint with weakness.”
Theron turned.
“You have no authority here.”
“Neither do you, if the documents in that case are authentic.”
Chen held up a folded sheet of paper.
“Your father transferred several properties to a trust controlled by Richard Kingsley. One of those properties is this mansion.”
Theron stared at him.
“Impossible.”
“Your father believed no one would discover it.”
Chen handed the paper to Eleanor.
Her name appeared on the final page.
Beneath it was a date.
October 20, 2026.
Her seventh wedding anniversary.
The trust's final clause was written in legal language, but the meaning was unmistakable. The mansion and the Ashworth family's controlling shares would transfer to Eleanor if she remained married to Theron until that date.
Unless she was declared mentally incompetent, divorced, or convicted of a serious offense before the deadline.
Eleanor looked up slowly.
“The scandal. The staged attack. The accusations.”
Chen nodded.
“They needed you to look unstable. If you were convicted of attempted murder, the inheritance could be frozen.”
Theron said nothing.
Eleanor turned toward him.
“You needed me to look like a criminal.”
“I was trying to protect the company.”
“Your company?”
He looked away.
Chen's voice sharpened.
“Enough. Miss Kingsley, we need to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because Vivienne's disappearance is not the worst problem.”
He showed her a message received seconds earlier.
It contained a single photograph.
A man lay bound inside a dark room, his face bruised, his hair streaked with gray.
Even through the blood, Eleanor recognized him.
Her brother.
Julian Kingsley.
Beneath the photograph were six words.
RETURN THE PHONE OR HE DIES.
Eleanor stared at the screen.
Then she looked at the man who had spent seven years sleeping beside her.
“Theron, where is my brother?”
He closed his eyes.
“I don't know.”
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Chen studied him for a long moment.
Then he said, “That is the first honest thing you've told her today.”
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