Chapter 2 - THE SNAKE IN THE MANSIONSpencer drove his SUV through the torrential downpour, his heart hammering like a war drum against his ribs. Charlee sat in the back seat, holding the blue teddy bear against her chest, her intelligent eyes watching Spencer in the rearview mirror.
"Uncle Spencer?" she asked quietly.
Spencer nearly lost control of the steering wheel. "What did you call me?"
"Grandma Florence told me stories before she got sick," Charlee said, her voice small yet remarkably steady. "She had a photograph of a handsome young boy in a riding outfit. She told me that was my uncle Spencer. She said if anything ever happened to her, I should go to the Warren mansion. But I was scared... until I found Dexter."
Spencer’s eyes welled with uncharacteristic tears. All those years, he had believed his late father was a paragon of virtue, yet the old man had hidden an entire illegitimate family while discarding Florence and her daughter like trash. History was repeating itself—except this time, a newborn baby had literally been thrown into a trash bag.
"Listen to me, Charlee," Spencer said, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "We are going back home, but you must stay behind me no matter what happens. Do you understand?"
"Is the bad man inside?" she asked.
"Yes," Spencer replied grimly. "The bad man is inside."
When they pulled up the winding driveway of the Pinecrest Heights mansion, the estate looked serene under the glow of warm security lights. But inside, a lethal game of chess was underway.
Spencer instructed his private security force to surround the perimeter silently via a quick cipher code sent from his smartwatch. He guided Charlee through the side entrance near the kitchen.
In the living room, Marcus Vance sat casually in an armchair, sipping scotch. Mrs. Mabel was in the adjacent nursery, softly singing a lullaby to baby Dexter.
"Spencer! You're back," Marcus said smoothly, setting his glass down on a mahogany coaster. "I've drafted the preliminary custody affidavits. Once you sign, the state won't be able to touch the child until the DNA results return."
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Spencer walked slowly toward the bar, pouring himself a drink without taking his eyes off his attorney. "Tell me, Marcus. How long have you been sleeping with Jocelyn Cooper?"
Marcus froze, his glass hovering an inch off the table.
