Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO GAVE HER AWAYMaya forgot the approaching footsteps.
Forgot Nathan.
Forgot the mansion.
“You’re lying.”
Evelyn’s voice trembled through the phone.
“I wish I were.”
“My mother is Ruth Bennett.”
“Yes.”
“You just said—”
“Ruth is your mother in every way that matters. She raised you. She loved you. I’m not trying to take that from her.”
“Then what are you trying to take?”
Nothing came back.
Maya’s breathing became uneven.
Nathan touched her shoulder.
She jerked away.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You called her.”
“She’s my sister.”
Maya stared.
Nathan Cole was looking at her differently now.
Not because she was a maid.
Not because she had found him.
Because his sister had just claimed to be Maya’s biological mother.
Which meant—
“No.”
Nathan understood immediately.
“Maya—”
“No.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“You’re my uncle?”
“Apparently.”
“Stop saying apparently!”
“Would you prefer definitely?”
She glared.
Nathan nodded.
“Bad timing.”
The footsteps grew louder.
Nathan pulled her deeper into the passage.
“Maya, move.”
They ran.
Or Maya ran.
Nathan performed an injured approximation of running that became increasingly pathetic.
After thirty feet, Maya stopped.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Observation skills. Excellent.”
“You’re going to collapse.”
“Also excellent.”
She slipped his arm over her shoulders.
Nathan hesitated.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re heavy.”
“That’s generally what happens with adult men.”
“Shut up.”
They continued.
The passage climbed toward the mansion.
On the phone Evelyn said, “Maya, Ruth knew this day might come.”
Maya nearly dropped it.
“She knew?”
“She promised never to tell you unless your life was in danger.”
“My life is in danger!”
“Yes.”
“Then start talking.”
Evelyn inhaled.
“Twenty-eight years ago, I worked for Grant Harrow.”
Nathan’s face hardened.
“He wasn’t famous then. He owned a private security company that specialized in making problems disappear. Witnesses. Evidence. People.”
“And you?”
“I kept his accounts.”
Maya felt sick.
“I discovered payments connected to murdered witnesses. I tried to leave.”
“You couldn’t.”
“No.”
Evelyn’s voice became smaller.
“I was pregnant.”
Nathan stopped walking.
He looked at the phone.
“You never told me.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Who was the father?”
Silence.
Nathan repeated it.
“Evelyn.”
Before she could answer, the phone disconnected.
Maya stared at the screen.
NO SIGNAL.
Nathan cursed.
A door stood ahead.
He raised Victor’s keycard.
“Behind this is the wine cellar.”
“Then what?”
“We blend in.”
Maya looked down at herself.
Maid uniform.
Nathan looked down at himself.
Shirtless, bleeding, barefoot.
Maya raised an eyebrow.
“Excellent plan.”
“I’m improvising.”
“Improvise clothes.”
Nathan opened the door.
They entered the cellar.
Maya knew it well.
Hundreds of bottles lined mahogany racks.
Nathan found a catering jacket hanging near the service lift.
It barely covered his injuries.
“You still look like you escaped a dungeon.”
“I did escape a dungeon.”
“Try looking less dungeon.”
Nathan buttoned the jacket.
Maya grabbed a wine crate.
“Carry this.”
“My ribs are cracked.”
“Then look expensive.”
Nathan stared at her.
“That sentence makes no sense.”
“It does in Beverly Hills.”
She walked into the service corridor.
Nathan followed.
And somehow it worked.
Staff members rushed everywhere because of the storm. Nobody looked twice at another maid and a severe-looking man carrying wine.
Then Celeste Harrow stepped around the corner.
Maya froze.
Celeste wore ivory silk.
Perfect blonde hair.
Diamond earrings.
The face of a woman who had spent twenty years appearing beside sick children for photographers.
She smiled.
“Maya.”
Nathan turned away.
Celeste approached.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Maya forced herself to breathe.
“I was fixing the electrical panel.”
“Were you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Celeste touched Maya’s cheek.
Tenderly.
It was somehow more frightening than violence.
“You poor thing. You look terrified.”
Maya remembered the message.
WHITE DRESS.
Celeste’s fingers moved to Maya’s shoulder.
“Your mother has taken a turn.”
Maya nearly reacted.
Nathan’s hand tightened around the crate.
Celeste continued.
“We’ve arranged transportation.”
“For me?”
“For both of you.”
“Where?”
“A better facility.”
Maya looked directly into her eyes.
“What facility?”
For one instant Celeste’s smile disappeared.
Then it returned.
“Somewhere private.”
Nathan moved.
Maya subtly shook her head.
Not yet.
Celeste studied her.
“You found the basement room.”
Maya’s heart stopped.
Nathan slowly set down the wine.
Celeste sighed.
“I hoped you wouldn’t.”
Two security guards appeared behind them.
Nathan turned.
Another two blocked the opposite corridor.
Celeste looked at him.
“And you.”
Nathan straightened.
“Hello, Celeste.”
Her expression contained something far more complicated than hatred.
“You look terrible.”
“You always knew how to compliment a man.”
She slapped him.
Maya flinched.
Nathan barely moved.
Celeste whispered, “You should have stayed dead.”
“You first.”
Celeste looked at the guards.
“Take them.”
Maya grabbed the wine bottle from Nathan’s crate.
She smashed it against the wall.
Everyone recoiled.
Maya pointed the jagged neck toward Celeste.
“Don’t.”
Celeste actually laughed.
“Maya Bennett threatening me with a Cabernet.”
“It’s a Merlot.”
Nathan glanced at the label.
“It is.”
“Not helping.”
Celeste’s amusement vanished.
“You think Nathan is the good man in this story?”
Maya said nothing.
“He murdered people for my husband.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
Celeste stepped closer.
“Ask him about San Pedro.”
Maya looked at Nathan.
“What happened in San Pedro?”
Nathan didn’t answer.
Celeste smiled.
“Thirty-two people died.”
Maya’s face changed.
“Nathan?”
“I was responsible.”
“You see?” Celeste whispered. “The monster under my house is still a monster.”
Nathan looked at Maya.
“I’ll explain if we survive.”
Celeste laughed.
“He always says that.”
Then the mansion lights came back on.
Every chandelier illuminated simultaneously.
The security system rebooted.
Somewhere overhead, electronic locks clicked.
Nathan checked the time.
11:43.
“Seventeen minutes.”
Celeste’s smile vanished.
Nathan looked at her.
“You know what Grant plans.”
“I know more than you do.”
“Then stop him.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Celeste’s eyes suddenly filled with tears.
It was so unexpected Maya almost lowered the bottle.
Celeste whispered:
“My daughter is in the ballroom.”
Nathan froze.
“You don’t have a daughter.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Celeste—”
“She’s seventeen.”
Nathan went still.
Something passed across his face.
Calculation.
Memory.
Then horror.
Celeste looked at him.
“You understand now.”
Nathan whispered, “No.”
Maya looked between them.
“What?”
Celeste’s tears finally fell.
“Grant has spent eighteen years making the world believe we couldn’t have children.”
Nathan shook his head.
“No.”
“I hid her.”
“From Grant?”
“From you.”
Nathan looked as if she had struck him again.
Celeste stepped close enough to whisper.
“Her name is Sophie.”
Nathan’s face drained of color.
Maya understood before he said anything.
“You’re her father.”
Nathan didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Celeste looked at the security guards.
“They work for me.”
The four men lowered their weapons.
Maya’s bottle slowly dropped.
Celeste wiped her tears.
“I didn’t come to capture you.”
She looked toward the ballroom.
“I came because Grant changed the plan.”
Nathan’s voice was hollow.
“How?”
Celeste held out a small electronic tablet.
A floor plan glowed across it.
Hundreds of dots filled the ballroom.
One section flashed red.
“Those aren’t gas vents,” Celeste said.
Nathan stared.
“What are they?”
“Thermite charges.”
Maya’s stomach turned.
Celeste continued.
“He isn’t going to suffocate the guests.”
“Then what?”
“He’s going to collapse the entire west side of the mansion into the canyon.”
Maya looked toward the party.
“How long?”
Celeste checked her watch.
“Sixteen minutes.”
Nathan grabbed the tablet.
“Where is Grant?”
Celeste answered:
“He left twenty minutes ago.”
Of course.
Grant Harrow would not die with his guests.
Maya looked at Celeste.
“My mother.”
Celeste’s expression changed.
“What about her?”
“You moved her.”
“No.”
Maya held up Victor’s phone.
“Someone did.”
Celeste stared at the message.
Then at Maya.
For the first time, genuine fear entered her face.
“That isn’t Victor’s code.”
“What?”
Celeste grabbed the phone.
“WHITE DRESS isn’t me.”
Nathan went still.
“Then who?”
Celeste slowly looked toward the grand staircase.
A woman stood above them.
White gown.
Silver hair.
Nearly seventy.
Maya recognized her instantly.
Eleanor Harrow.
Grant’s mother.
The beloved matriarch of the Harrow Foundation.
The woman who had personally interviewed Maya for her job.
Eleanor smiled down at them.
And beside her—
in a wheelchair—
wearing a hospital gown—
sat Ruth Bennett.
“Maya?” Ruth whispered.
Maya’s entire body went cold.
Eleanor rested one elegant hand on Ruth’s shoulder.
Then she smiled.
“Come upstairs, darling.”
Her gaze shifted to Nathan.
“And bring my son.”
Nathan stopped breathing.
Maya stared at him.
“Your son?”
May you like
Eleanor’s smile widened.
And suddenly the family tree became far more dangerous than the bomb beneath their feet.
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