Chapter 4 - The Shadows in Highland Park
Signing that contract changed my life overnight—but it also lit a fuse.
With the five-thousand-dollar relocation stipend, I moved out of the Mesquite apartment within forty-eight hours. Marcus helped me find a secure, gated two-bedroom apartment complex ten minutes from Ethan’s house, complete with twenty-four-hour security guards and card-key entry doors.
For the first time in Santi’s life, he had his own bright, carpeted bedroom with a crib that didn't creak, a mountain of soft toys, and a pantry stocked with twelve cases of lactose-free formula.
Every morning, I drove to work in a clean, safe company crossover. I managed the estate’s vendors, scheduled maintenance, oversaw security upgrades, and helped Ethan organize his personal calendar. I was good at it. My mind, stripped of the constant, agonizing panic of poverty, was sharp, organized, and efficient.
And Ethan noticed.
Late in the afternoons, after he finished his remote video calls with international directors, he would walk into the sunroom where I was working on the budget spreadsheets. He would sit across from me, asking my opinion on simple things—decorations for an upcoming corporate event, staff schedules, or even what dinner he should order.
The cold, distant billionaire was fading away, revealing a man who was deeply kind, surprisingly humorous, and incredibly lonely.
Then came the second Thursday of November.
I was organizing the mail in the main foyer when a certified letter arrived via courier. It was addressed to Ethan, bearing the red seal of the Dallas County District Court.
I took it straight to his private study.
"Mr. Parker," I said, knocking softly. "This just arrived. It requires a signature."
Ethan took the envelope, pulled out a silver letter opener, and sliced it open. As he read the contents, his face hardened into granite.
"What is it?" I asked, feeling a cold prickle of dread.
"Regina Hale," Ethan said, his voice flat. "She and her husband have filed an emergency injunction with the court, requesting an audit of my personal expenditure accounts."
"On what grounds?"
"They’re claiming I’m misusing corporate funds for 'unauthorized personal gifts and improper compensation' to domestic staff." He looked up at me. "They listed your salary increase, your relocation stipend, and the formula as evidence of 'financial incompetence and conflict of interest.'"
My stomach flipped. "They’re using me to take your company away from you."
"They’re trying," Ethan said, standing up and opening his safe. He pulled out a leather-bound folder. "Regina thinks she’s playing chess. She doesn't realize I’ve been building a dossier on her husband’s offshore holdings for eighteen months."
Just as he spoke, the house inter-com chimed.
Marcus’s voice came through the speaker: "Mr. Parker, we have a situation at the main gate. Mrs. Hale is here. She brought two private investigators and a process server."
Ethan looked at me. "Stay here, Maya."
May you like
"No," I said, my heart beating fast, but my voice surprisingly steady. "I’m your Estate Manager now, Mr. Parker. I’m not hiding in the back room anymore."
Ethan stared at me for a second, a faint, proud smile touching the corners of his lips. "All right, Maya. Let's go welcome our guests."
