Chapter 4 - The Spider's Web
By dawn, the storm outside had rolled in full force, slating cold rain against the high windows of the mansion.
Grace’s fever had finally broken. Dr. Sterling came into the kitchen where Daniel was sitting, sipping a cup of black coffee while Lily ate a bowl of warm oatmeal topped with strawberries that Daniel had personally sliced for her.
"She’s out of danger, Daniel," Dr. Sterling reported, wiping his brow. "The oxygen and antibiotics worked. She’ll need at least two weeks of strict bed rest and physical rehabilitation, but she’s going to make a full recovery."
Daniel let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding for twelve hours. "Thank you, Marcus. Keep a private nurse here 24/7. Charge everything to my personal account."
"Will do. But Daniel... the marks on her wrists. And the malnutrition. That wasn't just illness. That woman was under extreme psychological stress and physical neglect."
"I know," Daniel said, his eyes darkening. "And the man responsible is coming here in two hours for our weekly strategy breakfast."
Dr. Sterling nodded grimly, gathered his equipment, and left.
At 8:00 AM sharp, the heavy iron gates of the estate opened, and a sleek black Porsche pulled up the winding driveway. Julian Vance stepped out, impeccably dressed in an Italian wool suit, holding a leather briefcase and wearing a charming, confident smile that had fooled bankers across three continents.
"Daniel, my man!" Julian called out as he entered the grand foyer, shaking off his umbrella. "Welcome back from Texas! I heard the green-energy deal went through. You're a miracle worker!"
Daniel was standing at the top of the grand marble staircase, looking down at his lifelong friend. His expression was utterly unreadable.
"Julian," Daniel said smoothly, descending the stairs with slow, measured steps. "Good to see you. How were things here while I was gone?"
"Smooth as silk," Julian lied without blinking, walking toward the dining room. "Handled the city zoning board, kept the River North project on schedule, kept the estate running. You know me—always keeping the machinery oiled."
"Is that so?" Daniel followed him into the dining room, where a lavish spread of pastries, fruit, and coffee was set out. "And how is Grace?"
Julian froze for a fraction of a second—so fast that ninety-nine people out of a hundred would have missed it. But Daniel was the one person who knew Julian’s tells.
Julian poured himself a cup of coffee, keeping his back to Daniel. "Grace? Oh, the housekeeper? Honestly, Daniel, we might need to replace her. She’s been very unreliable lately. Skipping shifts, leaving tasks unfinished. In fact, I think she took off yesterday. Probably went on a bender or found another job without giving notice."
Daniel walked slowly to the head of the table. He didn't sit down. He rested his hands on the back of the tall mahogany chair.
"That's strange," Daniel said softly. "Because I found her last night."
Julian turned around, cup in hand, his smile faltering slightly at the edges. "Oh? Where?"
"In the guest cottage. Unconscious. Suffering from near-fatal pneumonia in a room where the heating unit had been manually disabled from the main control panel in your office."
The air in the room instantly grew heavy, thick with static pressure.
Julian laughed, a forced, nervous sound. "What? Disabled? Daniel, that's crazy. Why would... I mean, maybe the circuits tripped. You know these old estates. I’ll call a repairman right away—"
"And I found Lily," Daniel interrupted, his voice dropping an octave, cold enough to freeze water. "She was standing on a plastic bucket in my laundry room at seven o'clock last night, trying to scrub coffee off my shirt with ice-cold water because she thought if she didn't, you would throw her and her dying mother out into the street."
Julian set his coffee cup down with a sharp clack. The charm slid off his face like wet paint, revealing the calculating, sharp-edged man beneath.
"Daniel, look," Julian said, taking a defensive step back. "You're getting emotional over domestic staff. Grace is just an employee. She’s been slacking, and I had to be tough on her to keep order around here while you were playing big-shot in Texas. So what if the kid was washed a shirt? It builds character."
"It builds character?" Daniel repeated. He moved.
May you like
Before Julian could react, Daniel had crossed the distance between them, grabbed Julian by the collar of his five-thousand-dollar suit, and slammed him against the mahogany wainscoting with enough force to rattle the crystal chandelier above.
"She is three years old, Julian," Daniel snarled, his face inches from his partner's. "And you left her mother to die."
