Chương 3
From somewhere down the corridor came the muted beep of a door alarm.
The damaged barrier had triggered the gallery security system.
Richard looked toward the sound.
“Security will be here in thirty seconds.”
Victoria almost said good.
Then she saw his face.
Richard employed the security team.
He paid the house staff.
The estate belonged to the trust he controlled.
The gallery cameras fed through a private network managed by his office.
Her relief vanished.
Olivia understood at the same moment.
“Put the papers in your bag,” she said.
Richard’s head snapped toward her.
“Olivia.”
Victoria did it.
The emerald dress had no pockets, because expensive clothes were sometimes designed by people who had never needed to hide evidence from a relative. Her evening bag sat on a bench several yards away beyond the broken glass.
She did not move.
Richard saw the problem.
His mouth almost curved.
Then Olivia took off her jacket.
She crossed the glass carefully, heels crunching, and held the jacket open.
“Wrap them.”
Victoria slid the packet inside.
The doors opened again.
Two security officers entered.
The older one, Mark Ellison, had worked for the family since Victoria was in college. He had once driven three hours through a snowstorm because Daniel had gotten stranded after a concert. He looked at the broken barrier, then at Richard.
“Sir?”
Richard answered immediately.
“Ms. Hayes pulled the protection rail loose. There was an accident.”
Victoria stared at him.
Mark looked at her.
He had known her for twenty years.
His expression did not change.
“Are you hurt, ma’am?”
“No.”
Richard said, “She’s shaken.”
Victoria said, “I’m not.”
Mark’s eyes moved to the glass.
Olivia folded her jacket over the papers.
Richard continued.
“I’d like the gallery cleared. No one in or out until we determine whether anything was damaged.”
Mark nodded automatically.
“Of course.”
“And Victoria should sit down somewhere.”
Victoria nearly smiled.
There it was again.
Sit down somewhere.
The elegant version of be quiet.
Olivia walked to her.
“Come with me.”
Richard stepped into the corridor.
“Olivia, I said the gallery is closed.”
“Then it can close after we leave.”
“You are an employee of the foundation.”
“For the moment.”
That stopped him.
Mark looked between them now with the careful attention of a man beginning to suspect he had walked into something that would eventually involve attorneys.
Richard’s voice dropped.
“Do not make a decision tonight that you will spend the rest of your life regretting.”
Olivia’s eyes sharpened.
“Was that for me or Victoria?”
“It was advice.”
“Sounded expensive.”
Victoria heard Daniel laugh in her head again.
She almost did too.
Instead she crossed the broken glass with Olivia beside her.
Richard did not touch either of them.
That mattered later.
In the moment, it felt like a victory.
It was not.
The long marble corridor outside the gallery was empty except for a housekeeper at the far end pushing a linen cart. She saw Victoria without Olivia’s jacket and immediately looked away, the instinctive privacy of someone who had spent years around rich people in distress.
Victoria walked barefoot because one heel had snapped beside the fallen barrier.
She carried the other shoe in her hand.
Olivia still had the papers wrapped in her jacket.
Neither woman spoke until the bronze doors closed behind them.
Then Olivia said, “We can’t go to your room.”
Victoria stopped.
“Why?”
“Because he controls the house network. I don’t know what he monitors.”
“You think he monitors bedrooms?”
“I think I’ve spent seventeen years telling myself Richard’s control issues were just efficiency.”
“That didn’t answer me.”
“No.”
Victoria waited.
Olivia rubbed her forehead.
“No, I don’t think there are cameras in your bedroom. I also didn’t think there were original trust documents hidden behind a painting I’ve personally inventoried twelve times.”
The housekeeper’s cart squeaked faintly as it disappeared around the corner.
Victoria looked at the wrapped papers.
“What did you mean by restatement?”
Olivia glanced toward the gallery doors.
“Not here.”
“That’s what he said.”
“I know.”
“Everybody keeps saying not here in a house my family owns.”
Olivia gave her a tired look.
“Technically, the trust owns it.”
Victoria almost told her to go to hell.
She stopped because that was the point.
The trust.
Richard’s trust.
Or maybe not Richard’s.
They went downstairs through a service stairwell instead of the main staircase. Olivia knew which doors bypassed the guest corridors. At the bottom, they passed a prep kitchen where two caterers were arguing quietly about whether leftover crab cakes could be frozen.
The normality of it irritated Victoria.
A young server recognized her and looked alarmed by her bare feet.
“Ms. Hayes, do you need—”
“I’m fine.”
The words came out too fast.
The girl nodded and looked down.
Victoria hated herself for frightening her.
“Sorry,” she said. “Broken heel.”
The girl smiled uncertainly.
“Happens.”
“Not usually like this.”
Olivia gave her a look.
Victoria shrugged.
It was either joke or shake.
Outside the service entrance, August heat wrapped around them. The estate lawns beyond the stone terrace were black except for path lights and the dim silver line of the reflecting pool.
Olivia led her toward the staff parking lot.
Victoria stopped again.
“My car’s out front.”
“Your driver reports to the family office.”
“Peter has driven me for nine years.”
“And who signs Peter’s paycheck?”
Victoria hated the answer.
Olivia unlocked a five-year-old Volvo.
The passenger seat was covered with folders, a reusable grocery bag, two empty coffee cups, and a box of nitrile gloves.
“Move the stuff.”
“This is your emergency escape vehicle?”
“This is my car.”
“Right.”
For the first time, Olivia almost smiled.
It vanished quickly.
Victoria gathered the clutter into her lap and climbed in.
Olivia placed the wrapped documents beneath the driver’s seat instead of handing them back.
Victoria noticed.
“So you don’t trust me either.”
“I don’t trust anyone right now.”
“Good start.”
May you like
Olivia started the car.
As they pulled out, Victoria looked back at the estate.
