Chapter 2 - SEVENTY-NINE MINUTES
Gavin did not show the text message to Priscilla.
Not immediately.
He simply locked his phone and looked across the office as though nothing had happened.
That decision came from instinct.
Over fifteen years in business, Gavin had survived hostile acquisitions, federal investigations into competitors, lawsuits designed to force settlements, and boardroom coups organized by people who smiled while stabbing each other in the back.
He had learned one rule.
When you discover someone is lying to you, do not immediately tell them how much you know.
Priscilla stared at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That didn’t look like nothing.”
Gavin slipped his phone into his pocket.
“Work.”
At 10:42 on the night of his engagement party?
Normally she would have challenged him.
This time, she didn’t.
That told Gavin something too.
He turned toward Nora.
“Taylor looks tired.”
Nora glanced at him.
A second passed.
Then she understood that something had changed.
“Yes.”
“She should probably go home.”
Priscilla immediately nodded.
“Exactly.”
Too quickly.
Gavin noticed that as well.
Nora reached for Taylor’s hand.
“I’ll get our things.”
“No.”
Nora stopped.
Gavin walked toward the desk.
“My driver will take you.”
Priscilla’s eyes narrowed.
“She doesn’t need your driver.”
Gavin turned.
“I wasn’t asking.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Evelyn watched her son carefully.
She knew him better than anyone.
Something had frightened him.
And Gavin Roberson did not frighten easily.
Taylor tugged on his jacket sleeve.
“Mr. Gavin?”
He looked down.
“Yes?”
“Can Grandma Lady come too?”
Evelyn blinked.
“Grandma Lady?”
Taylor pointed at her.
“You’re somebody’s grandma.”
For the first time that night, Gavin’s face softened.
“That’s my mother.”
Taylor nodded seriously.
“So Grandma Lady.”
Evelyn wiped the corner of one eye.
“I suppose I’ve been called worse.”
Gavin looked at her.
“You’re leaving too.”
Priscilla stepped forward.
“Gavin.”
He turned toward her.
“I need twenty minutes.”
“For what?”
“To think.”
“About our engagement?”
“About everything.”
Priscilla stared at him.
“I am not leaving my own engagement party because your mother arrived with conspiracy theories.”
“It’s my penthouse.”
The words landed hard.
Priscilla’s lips parted.
Gavin continued.
“The guests can stay.”
“You can stay.”
“But nobody enters this office.”
“And nobody touches that folder.”
For a second, anger flashed in Priscilla’s face.
Then the polished expression returned.
“Fine.”
She walked toward the door.
Her hand reached the knob.
Gavin spoke behind her.
“Priscilla.”
She turned.
“Where is Marcus?”
“I have no idea.”
“You were talking to him twenty minutes ago.”
Her face barely changed.
“Was I?”
“I saw you.”
A pause.
“He was asking about a donor.”
“Which donor?”
“I don’t remember.”
Gavin held her gaze.
“You remember everything.”
Priscilla smiled thinly.
“You used to like that about me.”
Then she left.
The door closed.
Gavin immediately pulled out his phone.
He showed the message to Evelyn and Nora.
Evelyn sat down.
Nora’s hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh my God.”
Gavin checked the hallway camera application on his phone.
It should have shown live footage from every private corridor.
Instead, three feeds were black.
The service hallway.
The elevator vestibule.
The parking garage entrance.
He called building security.
A man answered.
“Security desk.”
“This is Gavin Roberson.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want the penthouse floor locked down.”
A pause.
“Sir?”
“No elevators without my approval.”
“No stairwell access.”
“And send two officers to my private hallway.”
Another pause.
Longer.
“Mr. Roberson, our system is showing a fire safety override on your floor.”
Gavin’s face hardened.
“Who activated it?”
“I’m checking.”
“Do it now.”
Keyboard sounds.
Then the guard became quiet.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“The override was activated with administrative credentials.”
“Whose?”
“Building management.”
“Name.”
Another pause.
“Marcus Reed.”
Evelyn whispered.
“Gavin.”
He raised one finger.
“Cancel the override.”
“I’m trying.”
The security officer typed rapidly.
“Sir, the system isn’t responding.”
“Then send people upstairs.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gavin ended the call.
Nora was holding Taylor against her hip now.
The little girl had finally sensed the tension around her.
She buried her face against her mother’s shoulder.
“Mommy, are we going home?”
“Yes, baby.”
Nora kissed her hair.
“We’re going somewhere safe.”
Gavin walked toward a wall panel.
He pressed his thumb against a hidden biometric reader.
A section of built-in shelving clicked open.
Behind it was a narrow private elevator used only by Gavin and two members of his household staff.
Priscilla did not know the access code.
At least Gavin hoped she didn’t.
“The elevator goes directly to a secure garage bay.”
Nora stared at it.
“You have a secret elevator?”
“I’m rich.”
Despite everything, Nora almost laughed.
Gavin looked at Evelyn.
“You’re going with them.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“I spent six months being afraid.”
“I’m done leaving rooms because someone wants me silent.”
“This isn’t about pride.”
“No.”
Evelyn looked at Taylor.
“It’s about them.”
She picked up the black folder.
“If Nora’s husband is connected to this, she deserves answers.”
“And if the warning is real, she deserves to stay alive long enough to get them.”
Nora flinched.
Gavin regretted the words immediately.
He softened his voice.
“I’m sorry.”
Nora shook her head.
“Don’t apologize.”
“Daniel received warnings too.”
Gavin stared at her.
“What kind?”
“Phone calls.”
“Emails.”
“One envelope left under our apartment door.”
“What did it say?”
Nora’s eyes became distant.
“Stop asking questions about Harbor Crown.”
Gavin felt a slow chill move down his spine.
“And you never told anyone?”
“Daniel did.”
“Who?”
“His supervisor.”
“Who was that?”
Nora looked at him.
“Marcus Reed.”
The room went silent.
Gavin remembered Marcus insisting after Daniel’s death that the engineer had never raised formal concerns.
There was nothing in company records.
No complaints.
No engineering objections.
No whistleblower report.
Gavin had accepted it.
Why wouldn’t he?
Marcus had been his friend since college.
They had built half the company together.
Gavin suddenly remembered something else.
“Daniel died in Arizona.”
“Yes.”
“What was he doing there?”
“Coming home.”
“From San Diego?”
Nora nodded.
“He called me around seven that night.”
“He said he had finally found proof.”
“What proof?”
“He wouldn’t tell me over the phone.”
“Why?”
“He said the phones weren’t safe.”
Taylor lifted her head.
“My daddy was brave.”
Nora closed her eyes briefly.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
Taylor looked at Gavin.
“He has stars.”
Gavin frowned.
“Stars?”
“In Mommy’s drawer.”
Nora’s eyes opened.
“What?”
Taylor pointed at her mother.
“Daddy’s stars.”
Nora stared at her daughter.
“What are you talking about?”
“The shiny stars.”
Nora lowered Taylor to the floor.
“Show me with your hands.”
Taylor made a rectangle.
“Like a little box.”
Nora’s expression changed.
“Our old metal case.”
Gavin stepped closer.
“What case?”
“I haven’t opened it since Daniel died.”
“Where is it?”
“In my apartment.”
Taylor nodded enthusiastically.
“Daddy’s stars are inside.”
Nora looked confused.
“Taylor, you’ve never seen inside that box.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
The little girl shrugged.
“At Grandma’s.”
Nora went still.
“What grandma?”
Taylor pointed toward Evelyn.
“Not Grandma Lady.”
Then she said a name Nora had not heard in almost three years.
“Grandma Marlene.”
Nora’s knees nearly buckled.
Marlene Bell was Daniel’s mother.
She had disappeared four months after her son’s funeral.
Her house in Tempe had been emptied.
Her phone disconnected.
A short letter had arrived saying she could not handle the grief and wanted no contact.
Nora had believed it.
Because she had been grieving too.
Now Taylor was claiming she had seen her.
“That’s impossible.”
Taylor frowned.
“She gave me cookies.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
Nobody moved.
Nora stared at her daughter.
“Taylor.”
Her voice shook.
“Where did you see Grandma Marlene yesterday?”
Taylor pointed toward the wall.
“Here.”
Gavin’s office became completely silent.
“Here?” Nora whispered.
Taylor nodded.
“In the downstairs place.”
Gavin crouched.
“What downstairs place?”
Taylor thought.
“The cars.”
“The garage?”
“Yes.”
Nora’s face emptied of color.
Gavin looked toward Evelyn.
If Taylor was telling the truth, a woman missing for almost three years had been inside Gavin’s building less than twenty-four hours ago.
And she had somehow encountered her granddaughter without Nora knowing.
Gavin’s phone vibrated again.
Unknown number.
He opened the message.
Do not use the private elevator.
His eyes moved toward the hidden elevator doors.
A second message appeared.
They are waiting downstairs.
Gavin immediately stepped away from the panel.
Evelyn whispered.
“Who is sending these?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Gavin’s phone rang.
Same unknown number.
He answered.
Nobody spoke.
“Hello?”
Static.
Then a woman began breathing on the other end.
Gavin glanced at Nora.
“Who is this?”
The voice finally came.
Older.
Weak.
Terrified.
“Is Nora Bell with you?”
Nora’s head snapped toward the phone.
Gavin put the call on speaker.
“Yes.”
A sob came through the line.
Nora stopped breathing.
“Marlene?”
Silence.
Then the woman whispered.
“Nora, listen to me.”
Nora’s eyes filled.
“Oh my God.”
“Marlene, where are you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Where have you been?”
“I thought staying away would keep you safe.”
Nora covered her mouth.
Taylor stared at the phone.
“Grandma?”
The woman began crying harder.
“My baby.”
Taylor smiled.
“I had your cookie.”
Nora looked as though she might collapse.
Gavin stepped closer.
“Marlene, who is coming for them?”
The breathing on the line changed.
Then a loud sound came from the other side.
A door.
Marlene gasped.
“No.”
Gavin’s entire body tightened.
“Marlene?”
“They found me.”
The phone fell.
There was movement.
A man’s voice in the distance.
Then the call ended.
Nora screamed her name.
No answer.
Gavin immediately tried calling back.
Disconnected.
Then every light inside the penthouse went out.
The engagement party music stopped.
Thirty guests screamed in the darkness.
And somewhere beyond the office door, a man shouted.
“Mr. Roberson, we need to evacuate the building.”
Gavin looked at his phone.
10:48 p.m.
Seventy-two minutes until midnight.
But now he understood.
The threat wasn’t telling him when danger would arrive.
May you like
It was telling him how long he had before someone intended to erase the evidence.
And possibly everyone connected to it.
