Chapter 6 - The Enforcer's Warning
The hand over Sadie’s mouth was warm, calloused, and smelled faintly of gunpowder and cheap mints. It belonged to Miller, the driver who doubled as Ronan Cain’s chief enforcer.
Miller’s mirrored sunglasses reflected the dim light of the hallway sconce, making his expression completely unreadable. Slowly, as Sadie stopped struggling and offered a frantic, wide-eyed nod, Miller lowered his hand.
"You've got a death wish wandering the West Wing after hours, honey," Miller muttered under his breath, keeping his voice low enough not to carry through the heavy study doors. "Mr. Cain is already tearing himself apart over his brother's ghost. If he realizes you're the one holding the other half of that secret, he won't just lock you in this house—he'll tear Ashport apart to find out what really happened the night Julian went into the water."
Sadie swallowed hard, her chest heaving as she fought to steady her breathing.
"I wasn't looking for trouble," Sadie whispered back, her voice shaking with suppressed fury and fear. "I was checking on the medication schedule for the old mistress. The dosage times were changed."
Miller stared at her for a long second, tilting his head as if evaluating whether she was a liar or a lunatic. Then, a dry, humorless sound escaped his throat.
"Right. Medication." Miller stepped aside, gesturing down the dim corridor toward the East Wing. "Go back to your room, Miss Cole. And don't ever let Mr. Cain catch you sniffing around his desk again. Next time, I won't be the one intercepting you."
Sadie didn't wait for a second invitation. She turned and practically flew down the corridor, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
When she finally slipped back into Elena Cain’s room, locking the heavy oak door behind her, she collapsed against the wood, sliding down until she sat on the cold floorboards.
Across the room, the moonlight illuminated Elena Cain sitting quietly in her wheelchair. The old woman wasn't sleeping. Her smoke-colored eyes were open, staring directly at Sadie with an intensity that pierced through the darkness.
Slowly, deliberately, Elena raised her hands.
He knows, the old woman signed, her fingers moving with quiet, heartbreaking solemnity.
Sadie looked up, tears finally spilling over her lashes and cutting hot trails down her cheeks.
May you like
I know, Sadie signed back, her hands trembling. And he's looking for the truth.
Elena lowered her hands, then pointed a single, frail finger toward the heavy velvet curtains covering the bay window. Beyond those glass panes, the gray waters of Ashport Bay churned under a starless sky—the very waters where Julian Cain had supposedly drowned four years ago, taking a mountain of stolen syndicate money and a family secret down to the dark floor with him.
