Chapter 3 - The Alliance in the Dark
Conrad reached for my arm, but I whipped around and slapped his hand away so hard the sound echoed down the corridor.
"Don't touch me," I spat, my voice laced with pure venom. "Don't you ever put your hands on me or your son again."
Conrad dropped his head, leaning his forehead against the paneled wall. "You don't understand, Penelope... my mother controls everything. My father left her total voting control over the company shares until I turn forty-five. Every cent I have, every contract I sign, passes through her desk. If I go against her, she strips my title, takes Toby, and leaves me with nothing."
"Then you deserve nothing!" I shouted quietly, grabbing Toby's small hand and pulling him toward the guest wing on the second floor. "A man who sacrifices his own child to keep his bank account full isn't a businessman. He's a monster."
"Where are you going?" Conrad begged, following us down the hall.
"To a room with a lock on the inside," I said, slamming the heavy mahogany guest bedroom door in his face and sliding the heavy brass bolt shut.
The room went quiet. Toby sat on the edge of the large velvet bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, trembling violently.
"Are you going to leave me, Mrs. Penelope?" Toby whispered, his eyes wide and terrified. "Everyone leaves when Grandmother gets angry."
I walked over to the bed, sat beside him, and pulled him into a warm, tight embrace. I didn't care about the expensive silk dress, the ruined wedding night, or the powerful enemies I had made in less than twelve hours. All I cared about was the small, cold boy crying against my shoulder.
"I am not going anywhere, Toby," I promised, resting my chin on top of his head. "I gave you my word. I don't break my promises."
"She has lawyers," Toby whimpered. "She has policemen."
"And I have something better," I said, pulling back to look him in the eyes. "I have the press. And I know how to make people listen."
I reached into the hidden pocket of my dress skirt and pulled out my smartphone.
I hadn't just looked at the blueprint when Toby handed it to me—I had taken three high-resolution photographs of the document, including the red ink notes and Clara's signature, before Helen had even walked down the stairs.
I opened my encrypted messaging app and dialed a number I hadn't used in three years.
The line rang twice before a raspy, tired voice answered.
"Penelope? It's midnight. Don't tell me Wheeler Construction already broke a non-disclosure agreement."
"Marcus," I said, my voice steady and deadly serious. "I need you to open a fresh file. I'm sitting inside the Oakhaven estate."
Marcus Vance was a veteran investigative journalist for the State Gazette—and Clara Vance's older brother. He had spent three years trying to prove that his sister's death wasn't natural, but the Wheeler family's legal team had blocked every subpoena he had ever filed.
"Penelope," Marcus said, his voice instantly sharpening. "What's going on?"
"I found Clara's blueprint, Marcus," I whispered into the receiver. "The one with the handwritten notes about Sector 4 and the offshore accounts. And I have proof that Helen Wheeler is physically abusing Clara's son."
The line went dead silent for three full seconds. I could hear Marcus's ragged breathing over the speaker.
"If this is a joke, Penelope," Marcus rasped, his voice shaking with restrained emotion, "I swear to God—"
"It's not a joke," I interrupted. "Toby is sitting right beside me. He has marks on his back from a bamboo rod. I took photos of his injuries, and I have photos of the blueprint."
"Listen to me carefully, Penelope," Marcus warned, his tone turning ice-cold. "Helen Wheeler isn't just rich. She owns three former district attorneys and the chief of police in Oakhaven. If she realizes you have that evidence, you and Toby won't make it out of that house alive."
"I know," I said, looking toward the locked door as a heavy knock sounded from the hallway.
"Penelope! Open this door!" Conrad's voice called out from the hallway. "My mother called security! They're coming to take the phone!"
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I looked back at Toby, who nodded at me with surprising courage.
"Marcus," I said into the phone, "get your legal team ready. Tomorrow morning, we aren't just filing a story. We're burning this family to the ground."
