Chapter 1 - THE MAN WHO OWNED THE SILENCE
Grant stared at Wade as though a waiter had announced that the moon belonged to him.
"What company?" he asked.
Mitchell looked toward the windows, where the black lake reflected the chandelier.
"Aster Vale," Wade replied.
"You are lying."
"I founded Harrow Industrial Holdings before your first year of college, Grant. Aster Vale began as its investment division. My voting trust still controls the board appointments."
Grant turned to Mitchell for the laugh that would rescue him.
Mitchell offered none.
"He is telling you the truth," Mitchell said.
Eliza steadied Owen against her shoulder, the pain in her cheek pulsing with every heartbeat.
She did not look impressed by the revelation; she looked profoundly tired.
"Dad," she whispered, "I need to sit down."
Wade immediately moved a chair toward her and asked Rebecca to call for medical help.
Grant put himself between them and the door.
"Nobody is taking my son anywhere."
"Move," Eliza said.
Her voice surprised everyone, including herself.
Grant's hand twitched toward her again.
Mitchell stepped sideways, making himself a witness and a barrier.
"Don't," Mitchell warned.
Rebecca had already dialed emergency services and was describing a pregnant woman struck in the face while holding a small child.
Grant looked at the phone as though it were an assassin.
"You're ruining a private disagreement," he hissed.
"You turned it into an emergency when you hit her," Rebecca answered.
Wade waited until Eliza and Owen passed before looking at his son-in-law again.
"The company may be mine to protect, but Eliza's choice is hers. You will not make it for her again."
At the foot of the staircase, the housekeeper stood frozen with Owen's blanket in her hands.
Eliza took the blanket, and the woman quietly said she had heard shouting like this before.
Grant barked her name, commanding silence.
"You can talk to an investigator," Wade told her.
From the driveway came the rising pulse of an ambulance siren.
Grant glanced toward his guests and suddenly became charming again.
"This is all a terrible misunderstanding."
No one answered.
Then the security panel beside the front door emitted three short beeps.
Grant's personal access code, the code that opened every gate and garage door, had just been disabled.
"What did you do to my house?" he demanded.
Wade did not smile.
May you like
"That," he said, "is the second question you should have asked years ago."
