Chapter 8 - The Door That Was Already OpenThe alarm lasted eleven seconds.
That was enough.
David moved toward Maya immediately.
She stepped back.
“I’m fine.”
“I know.”
“You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The protective caveman thing.”
“There is an alarm.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to physically become a wall.”
“I’m excellent at being a wall.”
“This is not the time to be proud.”
Marcus entered, speaking into his phone.
“West service entrance.”
David turned.
“What happened?”
“Door sensor.”
“Breach?”
“Security is checking.”
Victoria stood near the table.
Her face had gone pale.
Maya noticed.
“You expected this.”
“No.”
“You look like you did.”
Victoria shook her head.
“I expected something. Not this.”
David looked at Marcus.
“Get her out.”
Victoria immediately objected.
“No.”
David turned toward her.
“You’re not staying.”
“If Vale knows I’m here, leaving is worse.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
Maya looked at him.
“David.”
He closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“No secret decisions.”
“I know.”
Maya looked at Victoria.
“Do you have somewhere safe?”
Victoria hesitated.
That was answer enough.
Maya sighed.
“I cannot believe I’m saying this.”
David looked horrified.
“No.”
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
“I know what you’re going to say.”
“Then this relationship is progressing beautifully.”
“Maya.”
“She stays tonight.”
“No.”
Victoria looked between them.
“This is surprisingly entertaining.”
Both David and Maya turned.
“Not helping,” they said together.
Marcus returned.
“False alarm.”
David frowned.
“Cause?”
“A member of staff opened the service entrance after the system had been switched to night protocol.”
“Who?”
“Daniel.”
David relaxed slightly.
Maya did not.
“Who’s Daniel?”
“One of the kitchen staff,” Marcus said.
“How long has he worked here?”
“Six years.”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed.
“Six?”
Marcus looked at her.
“Yes.”
“Before or after the missing investment?”
“Before.”
The room became quiet again.
David looked toward the hallway.
“Where is he?”
Marcus checked his phone.
“Security is bringing him to the office.”
Maya immediately said, “Don’t interrogate your chef.”
“He’s not the chef.”
“That is not the important part of that sentence.”
David looked at her.
“If someone inside this house is involved—”
“You ask questions. You don’t terrify him.”
“I’m not terrifying.”
All three of them stared at him.
David sighed.
“Fine.”
Daniel’s explanation was simple.
He had gone outside because a delivery driver had called saying a package had been left near the service gate.
There was no package.
The number that called him no longer existed.
Marcus looked at David.
“A test.”
David nodded.
Maya frowned.
“For what?”
“The response time,” Victoria said.
Everyone looked at her.
She continued.
“They wanted to know how quickly security reacts.”
David’s face hardened.
“Or they wanted us to think that.”
Maya looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“If someone inside the company has access to my security procedures, they already know response time.”
Marcus nodded slowly.
“So the alarm wasn’t testing security.”
David looked toward the camera in the corner of the room.
“It was testing me.”
Maya understood.
“To see what you would do.”
“Yes.”
“And you ran toward me.”
David did not answer.
He did not need to.
Victoria looked at Maya.
“That’s what they wanted.”
David turned.
“Enough.”
Maya ignored him.
“What happens if they know?”
Victoria’s answer was quiet.
“They know exactly where to apply pressure.”
That night, Maya could not sleep.
She lay in a guest room larger than her apartment and stared at the ceiling.
At 2:17 a.m., she gave up.
She walked downstairs.
David was in the kitchen.
Of course.
He sat at the island with a laptop, three folders, and untouched coffee.
Maya leaned against the doorway.
“You know sleep exists?”
He looked up.
“So I’ve heard.”
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She sat beside him.
“What are you doing?”
“Reviewing twelve years of internal financial records.”
“Personally?”
“Yes.”
“Because you trust no one.”
David looked at her.
“Currently? Correct.”
Maya nodded toward the coffee.
“Can I?”
“It’s mine.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“You hate my coffee.”
“I’m desperate.”
She took the cup.
One sip.
Her face twisted.
“No.”
David almost smiled.
“Still terrible?”
“Possibly criminal.”
She pushed it back.
Then she looked at the files.
“Who could do this?”
“Hundreds of people could move small amounts.”
“Twenty-eight million isn’t small.”
“In a company my size, it can be hidden.”
Maya stared.
“That sentence makes me angry.”
“Why?”
“I once cried because my electricity bill was ninety dollars higher than expected.”
David closed the laptop.
“Maya.”
“What?”
“I don’t want you comparing your life to mine like one of them is more real.”
She looked at him.
He continued.
“You had ninety dollars to worry about.”
He touched the folder.
“I had twenty-eight million.”
“That’s exactly my point.”
“No.”
David shook his head.
“The fear is the same.”
Maya became quiet.
He looked at her.
“You were afraid ninety dollars could change your month.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid betrayal could change my life.”
She understood.
“And it did.”
“Yes.”
Maya looked at his hand on the counter.
Then placed hers over it.
“You know what scares me?”
“What?”
“That I’m becoming important enough to hurt you.”
David looked at her.
“You already are.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
She almost laughed.
David turned his hand beneath hers, linking their fingers.
“Maya, caring about you creates risk.”
She looked down.
“But not caring about anyone created something worse.”
“What?”
He glanced around the silent mansion.
“This.”
Maya followed his gaze.
For years, David had filled the house with people he intended to forget.
Now it contained one woman he was terrified to lose.
Maybe that was progress.
Maybe progress was simply choosing a better fear.
“David?”
“Yes?”
“I’m going back to nursing school.”
He stared at her.
“What?”
Maya had not planned to say it tonight.
But suddenly it felt right.
“I called the program yesterday.”
David sat straighter.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll let you return?”
“I have to redo some clinical requirements.”
“That’s manageable.”
“And tuition.”
“I’ll pay—”
He stopped.
Maya slowly smiled.
David closed his eyes.
“Right.”
“You were doing so well.”
“I caught myself.”
“You did.”
He looked at her.
“Can I say something without you becoming offended?”
“Unlikely, but try.”
“I want to help.”
“I know.”
“And I know you don’t want me paying.”
“Correct.”
“So…”
David considered the problem like a hostile corporate acquisition.
“What if I help you find scholarships?”
Maya blinked.
“What?”
“Scholarships.”
“You?”
“I have people.”
She laughed.
“Of course you have people.”
“I can have someone compile programs you qualify for. You apply. You earn them.”
Maya studied him.
“No influence?”
“No influence.”
“No secret donation followed by a mysterious scholarship?”
David looked offended.
“I would never.”
“You absolutely would.”
He sighed.
“Fine. I promise.”
Maya smiled.
“Then yes.”
Something shifted in David’s face.
Pride.
Not the kind that claimed her accomplishment.
The kind that simply witnessed it.
“You’re going back.”
“I’m going back.”
David smiled.
A real smile.
Maya looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You have a face.”
“I’m happy.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
She swallowed unexpectedly.
Nobody had said it quite like that before.
Not I’m proud because I helped.
Not you finally listened to me.
Just:
I’m happy for you.
Maya leaned forward and kissed him.
David froze for half a second.
Then kissed her back.
When they separated, he looked almost suspicious.
“What was that for?”
“Acceptable behavior.”
“I should behave more often.”
“Don’t become ambitious.”
The next morning, Marcus found the first real break.
He entered David’s office holding a tablet.
“I found the pattern.”
David stood.
Maya, who had been reviewing nursing program requirements on the couch, looked up.
Marcus placed the tablet down.
“The missing money moved through six subsidiaries.”
David scanned the names.
“I know these.”
“You should.”
Marcus pointed to one.
“Every transfer required secondary authorization.”
“Whose?”
Marcus looked at him.
“That’s the problem.”
David read the authorization code.
His face changed.
Maya stood.
“What?”
David said nothing.
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
“David.”
“Tell me.”
Marcus exhaled.
“The approvals came from your father’s credentials.”
Maya looked at David.
David’s father had died five years earlier.
Two years before Victoria betrayed him.
Two years before the twenty-eight million disappeared.
“That’s impossible,” Maya said.
David stared at the screen.
“Yes.”
Marcus continued.
“Either someone cloned his credentials…”
“Or?”
“Or the fraud started before he died.”
David sat down.
Maya had never seen him look like that.
The betrayal he had blamed on Victoria had suddenly become something much older.
Something inside his own family.
Then Marcus’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His expression changed.
“What?”
David stood again.
Marcus looked directly at him.
“Victoria’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“She left the guest room sometime before six.”
“Security?”
“No one saw her leave.”
David’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s impossible.”
Marcus hesitated.
“She left something behind.”
“What?”
“A note.”
Marcus handed it to him.
David unfolded the paper.
Only one sentence was written there.
You’re looking at the wrong Prescott.
Maya read it over his shoulder.
Then looked at David.
“Who is the other Prescott?”
David did not answer immediately.
May you like
When he finally did, his voice had changed.
“My brother.”
