Chapter 4 - Dawn on the North Lawn
By 5:30 AM, the rain had stopped, leaving the grounds of Caldwell House glistening under a pale, bruised morning sky.
The white tent on the south lawn stood like a ghost ship—empty, abandoned, and dripping with water. The string quartet would never arrive. The eighty guests sleeping in nearby luxury hotels would wake up to hundreds of canceled text messages and breaking news alerts on their phones.
Ethan stood on the back veranda, holding a cup of black coffee, watching the first rays of dawn pierce the horizon.
Grant Mercer walked out onto the veranda, holding a heavy leather briefcase.
"Federal agents hit Thomas Beaumont's mansion twenty minutes ago," Grant reported, his voice crisp. "They seized all digital servers, physical files, and financial records. Beaumont didn't even have time to put on his shoes before they slapped the cuffs on him."
"And Claire?" Ethan asked without turning around.
"State police just took her into custody under a material witness warrant for the abduction attempt on Nora Reyes," Grant said. "Her defense attorney tried to block it, but with the signed statements from the security detail and Nora's testimony, the judge signed the warrant before sunrise."
Ethan nodded slowly. He took a sip of his coffee, feeling the bitter heat burn his throat.
"How is Nora?"
"She's resting in the guest wing," Grant said. "She refused to go home. Said she wanted to make sure the house was running properly today."
Ethan let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "Nora has more loyalty in her little finger than the entire Fortune 500 combined."
"What's your next move, boss?" Grant asked, looking out over the silent, dew-soaked lawn. "The market opens in four hours. Caldwell Systems stock is going to take a hit when the news breaks about Beaumont's arrest, even though your hands are clean."
"Let it drop," Ethan said firmly. "Buy back every share we can at a discount. We use our cash reserves to stabilize the portfolio by noon. By tomorrow, investors will realize we purged a cancer from the board."
"Understood."
Grant turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, by the way... there's a florist truck at the front gate. They were supposed to deliver three thousand white roses for the ceremony altar."
Ethan looked out toward the empty lawn where the wedding tent stood.
"Tell them to unload them," Ethan said softly.
May you like
"Sir?"
"Distribute them to every local hospital and nursing home in the city," Ethan said, turning away from the railing and walking back toward the warmth of the house. "Tell them it's a gift from Caldwell House. No card required."
