Chapter 5 - MASQUERADE AT EIGHT
At precisely 8:00 PM, the heavy wrought-iron gates at the front of the driveway swung open.
I watched through the security monitor as Liam’s sedan pulled up to the front porch. Harper leaped out before the car had even come to a complete stop. She was wearing a beige cashmere sweater, her hair pulled back into an elegant knot, looking every bit the dutiful, concerned daughter-in-law.
Liam followed her, looking nervous, rubbing the back of his neck as they unlocked the front door using the temporary code I had sent them.
“Mom?” Liam called out from the foyer. “We’re here!”
“Upstairs, Liam!” I called down, my voice echoing down the grand staircase. “In the big room!”
I heard Harper’s hurried footsteps clicking up the stairs, practically sprinting ahead of my son. She burst into the master suite, her eyes darting frantically around the room—first to the bed, then to the closet, then to the baseboards.
“Oh, Margaret!” Harper exclaimed, putting on a tragic, remorseful smile as she rushed forward with her arms open. “I am so, so sorry for the misunderstanding! I was just trying to create a cozy space for you downstairs so you wouldn't have to navigate these dangerous stairs anymore!”
I raised a hand, stopping her five feet away.
“Save it, Harper,” I said calmly.
Harper froze. Her smile faltered slightly. “What do you mean?”
Liam entered the room right behind her, looking confused. “Mom, what’s going on? You said we were going to talk about the renovation.”
“We are,” I said, reaching into my purse and pulling out the black leather ledger I had retrieved from the closet floorboards. I tossed it onto the center of the bed. “We’re going to discuss the Vane family debt from 1994. And we’re going to discuss why you married my son, Harper.”
Harper’s face drained of all color. The sweet, innocent expression vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold, calculating glare.
Liam looked between his wife and the ledger, his brow furrowing. “What is she talking about, Harper? What’s the Vane family debt?”
“Shut up, Liam,” Harper snapped without taking her eyes off me.
Liam blinked, stunned by the sudden venom in his wife’s tone. “Harper?”
“I searched this entire house for three years while you were at work,” Harper said, her voice dropping into a harsh, bitter hiss. “I knew Arthur kept the original bearer bonds. He ruined my father! He stole our family's share of Whitmore Enterprises and bankrupted us!”
“Your father embezzled two million dollars from the corporate treasury, Harper,” I corrected her, keeping my tone steady. “Arthur paid off your father's debts to keep him out of federal prison. In exchange, your father surrendered his shares back to the trust.”
“Lies!” Harper spat, taking a step toward me. “He hid those bonds! They’re worth four million dollars today! They belong to me!”
“Harper, what are you saying?!” Liam shouted, grabbing her arm. “You told me you loved me! You told me you wanted to build a family here!”
Harper whipped around and shoved Liam back with surprising force. “I married you because you were too weak and blind to see what your father did! You’re a pathetic, useless momma’s boy who couldn't even stand up to his own mother to give me this house!”
Liam stood there, utterly shattered, looking at the woman he had loved for seven years as if she were a complete stranger.
“Where are they, Margaret?!” Harper demanded, turning back to me, her eyes wild. “Where are the bearer bonds?! I know they’re in this room!”
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“They’re right behind you, Harper,” I said quietly. “Behind the mahogany panel on Arthur’s reading wall.”
Harper didn't hesitate. She lunged toward the decorative paneling beside the nightstand, her fingernails clawing at the wood until she found the hidden catch.
