Chapter 123 Chapter One hundred and twenty-two
ARA
For two days, Thayne didn’t come home. I knew, logically, that he was buried in meetings with his lawyers, untangling threats and lawsuits and damage control.
But logic didn’t soften the sting. He didn’t call. Didn’t text. Didn’t tell me whether he believed me or doubted me, whether he was fighting for himself alone, or for the fragile thing we’d built together.
The silence hurt more than his anger ever had.
I was rolling up my yoga mat when someone entered my space on soundless feet. I startled, my heart jumping, and turned to see the new maid standing a little too stiffly by the door.
Ever since Thayne replaced the staff for security reasons, I’d stopped trying to learn their names or memorize their faces.
It hurt more when you knew someone by their name and they betrayed you anyway.
“Mrs. Slade,” she said quietly, lowering her voice as if the walls themselves were listening. “A letter was delivered in front of the main gates this morning.”
She looked young. Too young. No older than Millie and Mollie. She belonged in a classroom, not inside a mansion filled with secrets, enemies, and tension.
I asked her to keep the letter on the table beside her. It could be one of Thayne's fangirls from Instagram sending him their nudes in an envelope.
Or filthy sex letters. I didn't want to open anything like that. Eeeeew.
“What’s your name?” I asked, surprising myself.
“I’m Lenora, ma,” she replied softly.
“You should be in school, Lenora,” I said gently, tucking the yoga mat under my arm.
She nodded. “Yes, ma. But my aunt chased me and my brother away. I took this job so I could provide for us. My brother is still in school.”
There was a steadiness in her voice, too mature for her age. The kind of calm that only came from surviving things you shouldn’t have had to survive.
I realized, with a dull ache, that we shared that.
“Is my husband aware?” I asked.
She hesitated, panic flickering across her face.
“No, ma. I lied about my age. Please don’t tell him. I fear your husband so much. The salary is huge, and I don’t want to lose this job. Please.”
“Lenora,” I said carefully, “I’m sure my husband already knows.” I paused, then added, “Can you bring me your school transcript? We’ll enroll you this week.”
Her eyes widened, comically so, like I’d just suggested pizza topped with chicken soup.
“But my job, ma?” she whispered. “How will I pay my brother’s school fees?”
“We’ll take care of you. Both of you,” I said firmly. “You don’t need to work here. Just get me the transcripts.”
Tears spilled freely now. She rushed forward and wrapped her thin arms around my neck, clinging like I might disappear if she let go.
“Thank you, ma,” she sobbed. “No one has ever done something like this for me.”
I hugged her back, smiling through my own tight throat.
She pulled away first, her gaze flicking to the envelope on the table.
“Ma’am,” she said hesitantly, lowering her voice even further, “I think… I think it might be a letter bomb.”
My brows shot straight to my hairline.
“That’s funny, Lenora. You watch too many action movies,” I said lightly, forcing a smile I didn’t feel. “I’m sure the letter is completely harmless.”
She didn’t smile back.
“Ma’am,” she said urgently, “a letter bomb killed my father. It looked exactly like this.”
The air seemed to thin. I looked at her properly this time. The fear in her eyes wasn’t dramatic or exaggerated. It was precise. Remembered.
“The return address is fake,” she continued, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “The postage is excessive. There are misspellings, subtle ones. And the thickness…” She gestured, stopping short of pointing. “It’s uneven. That’s not paper inside.”
“How do you know all this?” I asked quietly.
“Because the police explained it after,” she said. “After my father died. They said if anyone had noticed the signs, he’d still be alive.”
A chill crawled up my spine.
“I also heard a buzzing sound earlier,” she added softly. “When I was in the elevator. Very faint. Like something… alive.”
Fear slammed into my chest, and I sucked in a loud breath. Was it going to explode soon?
“Don’t touch it,” Lenora whispered. “Please, ma’am.”
My heartbeat thundered in my ears. Instinct screamed one name.
“Thayne,” I breathed.
But he wasn’t here. Panic didn’t have time to bloom, we moved. Lenora grabbed my wrist and practically dragged me out of the room, my pulse pounding in my ears as we rushed down the corridor in search of Thayne’s security team.
They were usually in the gym at this hour. I’d always avoided that place; something about a room full of armed men training like predators made my skin crawl.
Now, fear overruled discomfort. Lenora shoved the door open, and music slammed into us. The bass was heavy, the walls were even vibrating.
The room was packed with men mid-training, half of them shirtless and slick with sweat. Lenora immediately looked away, her cheeks flaming.
“Mrs. Slade?” one of them asked sharply, the only one fully dressed, alert instead of distracted.
“What’s wrong?”
I swallowed hard, forcing the words out before my courage failed. “The letter taken from the gate, it might be a letter bomb.”
The music cut off instantly.
His eyes widened. “It’s inside the penthouse?”
“Yes!” Lenora said before I could answer.
Chaos erupted, but controlled chaos. Twelve men surrounded us within seconds, moving with frightening precision.
“Move her. Now,” the leader barked.
Hands guided us toward the exit, firm but careful, like I was something fragile and explosive all at once.
“Mrs. Slade,” he said as we hurried down the corridor, “we need to relocate you immediately. We’ll X-ray the letter and test for radioactive components.”
I barely heard the rest. My feet were already moving, my heart hammering as if it wanted out of my chest.
The car doors slammed shut, and we sped off.
I was just starting to breathe again when Lenora leaned forward, peering through the window.
“There’s a car parked ahead,” she said quietly. “The windows aren’t tinted. There’s someone in the driver’s seat.”
I frowned. “Lenora, you’re imagining—”
“He’s masked,” she whispered. “And he’s watching us.”
The man beside the driver stiffened. “She’s not wrong.”
Eh, hold on a second. What?! I followed his gaze.
The car window slid down, and omething dark emerged.
A gun. Oh no.
Time fractured. I opened my mouth to scream. The shot rang out, and glass exploded. Lenora shrieked as the driver swerved violently, the car's tires screaming against asphalt.
Another deafening gunshot cracked the air. And in that split second of chaos, I understood one terrifying truth: This wasn’t even about the babies anymore. Someone had decided to kill me.