Chapter 10 - The Empty Room
The heavy mahogany doors of the east wing guest quarters stood wide open.
Chadworth reached the threshold out of breath, his chest heaving as he scanned the room. It was immaculate. The bed was made with military precision, the dust-free furniture gleamed in the afternoon light, and a small wooden valet stand sat quietly in the corner.
There were no clothes in the wardrobe.
There were no personal items on the dresser.
On top of the small writing desk rested a crisp, white envelope with a single word written across the front in neat, familiar handwriting: Chadworth.
Marcus hurried up behind him, stopping at the doorway and taking in the empty room. “Sir... it looks like she packed up and left before the federal agents even breached the gates.”
Chadworth walked slowly into the room, his boots making a hollow sound against the polished floorboards. He approached the desk, his hand reaching out to pick up the envelope. The paper was cool to the touch. He slid his thumb beneath the flap and pulled out a single sheet of heavy cardstock.
He unfolded it and began to read:
> Mr. Prescott,
> By the time you read this, Miss Sabina will be in federal custody, and your daughters will finally be safe in a house free of fear. My contract with you was always simple: to protect the children when you were unable or unwilling to see what was happening around them.
> You built an empire to secure their future, but you forgot that children do not need a fortress. They need a father who is present.
> I have left the complete ledger of Sabina’s financial transactions and medical tampering in the basement terminal. The authorities will find everything they need to ensure she never sees freedom again.
> Do not look for me. Take care of Lorelai and Gemma.
> — Rosamund
Chadworth stared at the final line, the words blurring slightly before his eyes. He lowered the letter slowly, the silence of the empty room pressing down on him with crushing weight.
He had won the war against Sabina, but in his blindness, he had allowed the one person who had truly saved his family to slip away like a ghost into the night.
Before Chadworth could turn toward the door to issue a search order, his phone buzzed violently in his pocket. He pulled it out, expecting a report from the federal task force or Marcus’s security team.
May you like
Instead, it was an unknown international number flashing across the screen, accompanied by a single text message containing an attachment: a live video feed from a private airstrip on the outskirts of the city, timestamped two minutes ago.
Chadworth tapped the screen, his breath catching in his throat as the video began to play.
