Chapter 5 - The Trap Springs Early
The heavy footsteps grew louder, descending the wooden basement stairs with a terrifying, rhythmic certainty.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
My mind raced in a blind panic. There was no other exit from the server room. No windows, no secondary doors—just the concrete walls and the humming racks of computer hardware. If Reid walked in and caught me here with his exposed criminal ledgers, he wouldn't just use a manufactured custody battle to silence me. He would destroy me completely.
I lunged forward, grabbed the master ledger and the printed email chain, and stuffed them into my canvas handbag. I slammed the heavy metal door shut just as the shadow of a figure appeared at the bottom of the basement stairs.
I ducked behind a large, floor-to-ceiling storage rack filled with old holiday decorations and spare furniture, holding my breath so tightly my chest burned.
“Owen?” Reid’s voice echoed sharply through the open basement corridor. “Did you leave the side door unlocked?”
A small, timid voice answered from the top of the stairs—Owen.
“No, Dad. I didn't touch it.”
“Stay where I told you,” Reid snapped.
His footsteps approached the utility corridor. I pressed my back against the cold concrete wall, squeezing my eyes shut, listening to the metallic clink of keys as Reid approached the utility room door.
I heard the key slide into the lock.
Click.
The heavy metal door swung open. The sudden shift in air pressure made my hair stir. Reid stepped into the server room. I could hear the faint rustle of his tailored trousers as he walked over to the central workbench.
A heavy, suffocating silence hung in the room for three agonizing seconds.
Then, a sharp intake of breath.
“What the...” Reid muttered under his breath.
He noticed the missing binder. He noticed the displaced papers.
“Mara!” Reid’s voice roared through the basement, vibrating with sudden, unadulterated fury. The thin veneer of corporate calm shattered instantly, replaced by a desperate, cornered animal rage. “Mara, I know you’re down here!”
He spun around, his heavy footsteps pounding across the concrete floor as he began checking every dark corner of the utility room. The shadow of his tall frame swept across the wall just feet away from where I crouched behind the holiday rack.
“You think you’re smart, don’t you?” Reid snarled, kicking a plastic storage bin out of his way with a violent crash. “You think you can ruin everything I’ve built?”
I gripped the strap of my canvas bag, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs.
Suddenly, a small voice piped up from the top of the stairs.
“Dad?”
Reid froze. He stopped pacing and turned toward the stairs.
“I told you to stay upstairs, Owen!” Reid barked, his voice laced with venom.
“Someone’s at the front door,” Owen whispered, his voice trembling. “There are police officers, Dad. They have a paper.”
Reid went utterly still.
Footsteps echoed from the main floor above—heavy, authoritative boots stepping onto the hardwood, accompanied by a firm, resonant voice.
“Police department! Is Mr. Reid Sterling present?”
May you like
Reid cursed under his breath—a foul, venomous oath—and stormed out of the server room, his heavy boots clattering up the wooden stairs two at a time.
I waited three long, agonizing seconds, listening to the muffled shouting upstairs, before slipping out of the server room and rushing up the basement stairs behind him.
