Chapter 3 - The Billionaire's Lie
Police arrived within twelve minutes.
It felt like an hour.
Sebastian's attorneys arrived in nine.
That told me everything I needed to know about the Vale family.
While paramedics examined Lucy, Sebastian stood in the ballroom surrounded by lawyers, security personnel, and several city officials who had apparently decided a billionaire needed protection from an eight-year-old girl.
I refused to leave Lucy.
She kept one hand wrapped around my wrist.
Every time someone wearing a dark suit approached, her breathing changed.
Detective Marcus Reed crouched beside her.
He was in his late forties, broad-shouldered, tired-eyed, and clearly unimpressed by expensive people.
“Lucy, do you know where you are?”
She looked toward Sebastian.
Then she whispered.
“His house.”
Marcus followed her gaze.
“Did Mr. Vale put you in that room?”
Sebastian's attorney stepped forward.
“My client will not tolerate defamatory accusations made in his residence.”
Marcus did not even turn around.
“I wasn't asking your client.”
Lucy squeezed my wrist harder.
“There were others.”
The room changed.
Marcus leaned closer.
“What others?”
“Children.”
“How many?”
Lucy closed her eyes.
“I don't know.”
A murmur moved through the guests.
Sebastian finally spoke.
“This child has obviously experienced severe trauma.”
I stared at him.
He continued with practiced sympathy.
“Tonight's discovery is horrifying, but I had no knowledge that anyone was being held inside that section of the property.”
“You own the mansion,” I said.
“It contains forty-three rooms and multiple sealed service corridors.”
“You hold your foundation gala here every year.”
He turned toward me.
“You arrived tonight with an axe.”
That was the first moment I understood his strategy.
He was not going to explain Lucy.
He was going to explain me.
His attorney lifted a folder.
“Elena Hart has spent the past year publicly criticizing the Vale Foundation.”
Several guests turned toward me.
That part was true.
My younger sister, Claire, had worked as an accountant for the foundation before dying in what police called a single-vehicle accident fourteen months earlier.
Three days before she died, Claire told me she had discovered financial transfers connected to supposedly rescued children who did not exist in any government database.
After her death, the files vanished.
I had accused the foundation of hiding something.
Sebastian called me unstable.
The newspapers called me grieving.
The public eventually stopped listening.
Until tonight.
“I came with an axe because I heard a child behind the wall,” I said.
Sebastian gave me a cold smile.
“And conveniently destroyed a nineteenth-century royal portrait worth fourteen million dollars in front of dozens of witnesses.”
Marcus stood.
“Everybody stops talking now.”
He turned to his officers.
“Seal the mansion.”
Sebastian's expression cracked.
“You don't have authority to do that.”
Marcus held up his phone.
“I just received it.”
The detective looked toward the broken wall.
“Nobody leaves.”
For the first time that night, several powerful people looked genuinely afraid.
Then an officer appeared at the ballroom entrance.
“Detective.”
Marcus turned.
The officer swallowed.
“You need to see the basement.”
May you like
Sebastian's wife dropped her champagne glass.
It shattered at her feet.
