Chapter 1
“Then you’ll go in first.”
Sybilla stopped smiling.
My open hand remained pointed toward the staircase.
She looked up.
Then away.
Interesting.
If my bedroom contained flowers, champagne, musicians, or whatever ridiculous engagement surprise she wanted me to imagine, she should have been delighted to lead me there.
Instead she moved one step farther from the stairs.
Estelle stood beside the console table holding my phone against her chest. The broken remains of hers still lay across the marble.
I looked at Sybilla.
“Go ahead.”
Her throat moved.
“Malcolm, don’t be theatrical.”
“No.”
My voice stayed low.
“Theatrics involve champagne fountains and string quartets.”
I glanced toward the landing.
“An unlocked private suite with my guards deliberately removed is logistics.”
The nearest guests became very interested in their drinks.
Good.
I looked toward my security chief, Elias Ward.
“Were the upstairs guards reassigned?”
His expression changed.
“One pair was.”
“By whom?”
He checked his earpiece.
Then looked at Sybilla.
“An instruction came through household service.”
Estelle immediately shook her head.
“I never sent it.”
Of course.
The blame had been prepared.
Maid unlocks door.
Maid sends guards away.
Something happens.
Then everyone asks why a young single mother with access to private rooms betrayed the house.
Clean.
Disposable.
I turned back to Estelle.
“What exactly did Sybilla tell you?”
Her fingers tightened around my phone.
“To unlock your bedroom at eleven.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“And the guards?”
“She said tell them the florist needed the corridor cleared.”
I almost smiled.
“Did you?”
“No.”
Sybilla’s eyes snapped toward her.
There.
That mattered.
Estelle had not completed the instruction.
Yet Sybilla was frightened of the room anyway.
Meaning whatever waited upstairs might already be there.
I looked at Elias.
“Seal the terrace doors.”
Sybilla whispered:
“Malcolm.”
I ignored her.
“Two men with me.”
Then I looked at Sybilla.
“You’re still first.”
She stared at me for three seconds.
Finally:
“They weren’t supposed to be there yet.”
The entire reception went silent.
Not flowers.
Not decorators.
May you like
People.
Already upstairs.
