Chapter 4 - The Secrets in the FurnaceMartin crashed against the bookshelf, scattering heavy volumes of corporate law across the floor. He scrambled up, his eyes wide with desperate rage.
"You don't understand what's in those books, Andrew!" Martin yelled, reaching into his jacket.
Before he could pull whatever he was reaching for, the double doors of the study blew open.
Four armed security officers—men I didn't recognize, wearing non-descript tactical gear—stepped into the room. Behind them walked my brother, Richard Caldwell. He wore a tailormade navy suit, his expression cold and triumphant.
"That's enough, Martin," Richard said calmly, raising a hand. The guards raised their sidearms, aiming them directly at me, Helen, and Grace.
"Richard," I said, keeping my body positioned firmly in front of Helen and her daughter. "Have you completely lost your mind? You bring armed mercenaries into my home?"
"It’s not your home anymore, Andrew," Richard said, pulling a folded document from his coat pocket and tossing it onto my mahogany desk. "As of two hours ago, the emergency board meeting concluded. Due to clear evidence of gross financial negligence and mental incompetence—demonstrated by your total failure to manage your personal finances and estate accounts—the board has voted to temporarily remove you as CEO and appoint me as interim receiver."
"You forged the audit flags," I spat. "You diverted Helen's pay, created a paper trail of neglect, and manipulated the trust."
"It doesn't matter what I did," Richard sneered. "It matters what the papers say. And the papers say you are unfit. Tomorrow morning, the press will report that Andrew Caldwell had a breakdown, neglected his loyal staff, and mismanaged millions in corporate assets. You'll be locked out of the headquarters before the sun rises."
He turned his attention to Helen and Grace.
"And as for you two," Richard continued, his voice dripping with venom. "Housekeeping and her illegitimate brat ruining months of planning... Guards, escort them out. Take their bags. Confiscate all personal belongings, phones, and notebooks. Make sure they don't leave the gate with anything."
"Touch her and I'll kill you," I threatened, stepping forward.
A guard stepped in, raising the butt of his rifle to hit me in the chest. I blocked his hand, throwing a heavy right hook that caught him across the jaw, knocking him sideways. The other three guards immediately charged, pinning me against the wall, forcing my arms behind my back.
"Andrew!" Helen screamed.
"Leave him alone!" Grace yelled, dodging past a guard and sprinting toward the corner of the room where the old dumbwaiter shaft was built into the wood paneling.
"Stop that kid!" Martin screamed.
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Grace didn't hesitate. She squeezed her small frame into the open service dumbwaiter door, slammed the wooden safety gate shut, and pulled the manual counter-weight pulley rope with all her might.
The shaft creaked, and she disappeared down into the dark depths of the mansion's core—taking her spiral notebook with her.
