Chapter 1 - THE CHAIR THAT WAITED SEVEN HUNDRED THIRTY DAYS
:
For seven hundred and thirty days, nobody had sat in that chair.
Not my brother.
Not my business partners.
Not the politicians who begged for favors.
Not even my own mother, before she died.
The chair belonged to a ghost.
My daughter.
Her name was Lily.
She had been four years old when the explosion tore through the lakeside villa.
The world believed she died instantly.
I had spent two years believing the same thing.
Until Chloe placed the tarnished silver locket in my palm.
I stared at it.
The metal was blackened around the edges.
A tiny scratch ran across the clasp.
I knew that scratch.
I had made it myself.
Lily used to complain that the clasp pinched her fingers.
One rainy afternoon, I'd tried to fix it with a pocket knife.
I had scratched the silver.
She had laughed.
“Daddy broke it.”
I swallowed.
My fingers tightened around the locket.
“Where did your mother get this?”
Chloe swung her tiny legs beneath the oversized chair.
“She said Daddy gave it to her.”
“Who's Daddy?”
“Mr. Daniel.”
My chest tightened.
Daniel Hart.
My most trusted undercover operative.
My best friend.
A man who supposedly died in the same explosion.
A man who had supposedly died trying to save Lily.
I looked toward Hannah.
She was frozen.
Her face had gone pale.
“Hannah.”
She swallowed.
“Yes, Mr. Sterling.”
“Explain.”
Her lips trembled.
“I didn't want Chloe to say anything.”
“That's not an answer.”
She lowered her eyes.
“Daniel told me if anything happened to him, I was supposed to wait.”
“For what?”
“For you.”
The dining room suddenly felt colder.
Marcus stepped forward.
“Boss, maybe we should move everyone to the east wing.”
“No.”
I looked at Chloe.
“What else did Daniel tell you?”
Hannah closed her eyes.
“Nothing.”
“She's three years old.”
“Yes.”
“So how does she know about Lily?”
Hannah's hands began shaking.
“She heard me talking.”
“About my daughter?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Hannah didn't answer.
Chloe did.
“Mommy said your little girl is sleeping.”
I stopped breathing.
“Sleeping where?”
Chloe pointed toward the fireplace.
“Under the pretty flowers.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
The fireplace.
There was an old marble mantel above it.
For two years, I had kept a photograph of Lily there.
A photograph taken two days before the explosion.
I stood abruptly.
The chair scraped against the floor.
“Marcus.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Seal the house.”
He immediately touched his earpiece.
“Already doing it.”
“Lock the gates.”
“Done.”
“No one leaves.”
Hannah stepped forward.
“Please.”
I turned.
“I need you to tell me everything.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Daniel said the fire wasn't an accident.”
I stared.
“Then what was it?”
“A cover.”
“For what?”
She looked at Chloe.
“For getting your daughter out.”
My breath caught.
“Lily was alive?”
Hannah nodded.
“I don't know.”
“You just said she was taken out.”
“Daniel told me that.”
“Where did he take her?”
“I don't know.”
“You were his wife.”
“I was his cover.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“He married me because I could move through neighborhoods without attracting attention.”
Marcus slowly lowered his hand from his weapon.
“You knew Daniel was undercover?”
“Yes.”
“Undercover for whom?”
Hannah looked at me.
“For you.”
I felt a strange pressure in my chest.
“For me?”
“He worked inside your family's organization.”
I frowned.
“That doesn't make sense.”
Hannah shook her head.
“Your father hired him.”
My father's name had not been spoken in my house for years.
He had died six months after Lily's birth.
I had taken over the organization soon afterward.
My father had left me one warning:
Trust nobody who wants your empire more than your family.
I had thought it was about business.
Maybe it wasn't.
Hannah continued.
“Daniel discovered someone was planning to kill Lily.”
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
“But he knew.”
“Yes.”
“And the explosion?”
“Was supposed to kill everyone.”
I stared at Chloe.
Then at the locket.
“Why give this to her?”
“Because he said you would know what it meant.”
I flipped it over.
There was something engraved on the back.
Not the Sterling crest.
Something older.
A tiny letter.
R.
Marcus leaned closer.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“That isn't Sterling.”
“Then whose is it?”
Hannah whispered:
“Your mother's.”
My stomach dropped.
“My mother never wore silver.”
“She did.”
Hannah shook her head.
“Before she married your father.”
Silence filled the room.
Then Chloe looked at me.
“Mr. Kaelen?”
“Yes?”
“Mommy says Lily is scared of the dark.”
I crouched.
“Why?”
“She said Lily doesn't like the room.”
“What room?”
Chloe pointed toward the hallway.
“The room with the blue door.”
My heart stopped.
There was no blue door in my house.
May you like
At least—
there hadn't been for fourteen years.
