Chapter 13 — The Betrayal Inside the House
Chapter 13 — The Betrayal Inside the House
The house had never felt so quiet.
Marcus stood in the center of the Sterling estate while rain struck the tall windows.
For the first time in decades, there were no servants moving through the corridors.
No lawyers arguing in the study.
No family members giving orders.
No security guards pretending everything was under control.
Only silence.
And somewhere inside that silence was a traitor.
Someone close to him had been helping Isabella.
Someone who knew where Khloe was.
Someone who knew about Elena.
Someone who had access to Marcus's private information.
Someone who had been feeding Isabella everything she needed.
Marcus stood beside the dining table and looked at the people gathered around him.
David.
Khloe.
Elena.
Two security officers.
His mother's attorney.
And the family's longtime house manager, Thomas Reed.
Six people.
One traitor.
Marcus placed a folder on the table.
“Someone in this house gave Isabella the hospital security codes.”
Nobody spoke.
He placed another document beside it.
“Someone gave her access to my financial records.”
Another.
“Someone knew Elena was in Room 317 before the police did.”
Silence.
Then Marcus looked at every person in the room.
“She knew everything.”
Khloe's face tightened.
“How?”
“That,” Marcus said, “is what we're going to find out.”
Thomas shifted uncomfortably.
Marcus noticed.
He had known Thomas since he was a child.
Thomas had served the Sterling family for thirty-one years.
He had driven Marcus to school.
He had stood beside him at his father's funeral.
He had helped Marcus move into his first apartment.
He had attended his wedding.
And now—
Thomas wouldn't meet his eyes.
Marcus's stomach tightened.
“Thomas.”
The older man looked up.
“Yes, sir?”
“Where were you last night?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Here.”
“Here where?”
“In the house.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
Marcus stared at him.
Thomas swallowed.
“Why?”
“Because someone entered the restricted archive at 2:17 a.m.”
Thomas's face changed.
“And the security system shows the access code belonged to you.”
Nobody moved.
Thomas slowly shook his head.
“I didn't enter that room.”
Marcus's voice remained calm.
“Then someone used your code.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Marcus stepped closer.
“That's the problem.”
Thomas had been loyal for most of Marcus's life.
Or at least Marcus had believed he was.
The old man had always seemed invisible in the way trusted servants often became.
He knew which door squeaked.
Which window didn't close properly.
Which cabinet contained the expensive whiskey.
Which drawer held Marcus's father's old letters.
He knew where every camera was.
He knew which hallways weren't monitored.
And he knew the family better than almost anyone alive.
Marcus remembered something suddenly.
The night Isabella attacked Khloe.
Thomas had been at the hospital.
Not officially.
He had told Marcus he was delivering documents.
Marcus had never questioned it.
Now he did.
“You were at the hospital that night.”
Thomas looked down.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To see Mr. David.”
“David wasn't expecting you.”
Thomas didn't answer.
Marcus's voice hardened.
“Why were you there?”
“I was worried about Khloe.”
“Then why didn't you come upstairs?”
Thomas looked at him.
“I was told not to.”
“By whom?”
Thomas's lips parted.
No answer.
Marcus felt anger rising.
“By whom?”
Thomas finally whispered:
“Mrs. Rossi.”
Khloe's face went pale.
“Isabella?”
Thomas nodded.
“She contacted me.”
Marcus stared.
“How?”
“She called.”
“What did she want?”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“She asked me to unlock a door.”
David stepped forward.
“Which door?”
Thomas looked at him.
“The maternity wing.”
Silence.
Marcus felt his blood run cold.
“Why?”
Thomas shook his head.
“She said she needed to speak to Khloe.”
“You knew Isabella was there?”
“No.”
“You opened the door for her.”
“I thought she had authorization.”
“You thought?”
Thomas's voice broke.
“She had a Sterling security badge.”
Marcus stared.
“Who gave it to her?”
Thomas hesitated.
“I don't know.”
Marcus looked at David.
David's face was grim.
“Someone inside the family.”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
Marcus dismissed everyone except Thomas.
He closed the study door.
“You have ten minutes.”
Thomas looked frightened.
“Ten minutes for what?”
“To tell me everything.”
“I already told you.”
“No.”
Marcus placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed Isabella entering the hospital.
Then another.
Isabella speaking to Thomas.
Then another.
Thomas handing someone an envelope.
Thomas stared at the images.
“Where did you get those?”
“Security recovered them.”
His face went white.
“You were recorded.”
Thomas sat down.
“I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
Marcus's voice was cold.
“You helped the woman who attacked my wife.”
“I didn't know she would hurt her.”
“You helped her enter a secured hospital.”
“Yes.”
“You gave her access to my family's records.”
Thomas looked away.
“Yes.”
“You gave her information about Khloe.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Thomas's eyes filled with tears.
“Because she threatened my daughter.”
Marcus stopped.
“Your daughter?”
“She lives in Boston.”
“What did Isabella threaten?”
“She had photographs.”
“Of what?”
“My daughter.”
Thomas's voice trembled.
“She had followed her.”
Marcus's anger softened for only a second.
“Why didn't you come to me?”
“Because Isabella said she'd kill her.”
Marcus stared.
“You should have trusted me.”
“I was afraid.”
“You betrayed me.”
Thomas nodded.
“I know.”
Marcus sat down.
“Tell me everything.”
Thomas wiped his eyes.
“Isabella contacted me six months ago.”
Marcus frowned.
“Six months?”
“Yes.”
“Before Khloe was attacked?”
“Yes.”
“What did she want?”
“Information.”
“About what?”
“Your family.”
“Which information?”
“Your father's records.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“What records?”
“His private correspondence.”
“Did you give it to her?”
“Some.”
Marcus felt a wave of anger.
“Which?”
“Letters.”
“Where are they?”
“I don't know.”
“Thomas.”
“She took them.”
“What else?”
“The trust documents.”
Marcus froze.
“You gave her the trust documents?”
“I didn't know what they were.”
“You worked for this family for thirty-one years.”
Thomas lowered his head.
“I knew they were important.”
“Then why?”
“She showed me the photographs.”
Marcus looked away.
Thomas continued.
“She said my daughter would disappear.”
Marcus stared at him.
“And you believed her?”
“She knew where my daughter worked.”
“That's not enough.”
“She knew her schedule.”
Marcus went still.
“That means she had someone else.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Thomas shook his head.
“I never met them.”
Marcus stared at him.
“Then Isabella wasn't working alone.”
“No.”
A knock came at the door.
David entered.
“We have a problem.”
Marcus stood.
“What?”
“The federal agents found another account.”
“Whose?”
David looked at Thomas.
“His.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
Marcus's stomach tightened.
“What account?”
David handed him a report.
An offshore account had been opened under Thomas Reed's name.
It contained $4.7 million.
Marcus stared.
“Thomas.”
“I didn't know about it.”
“Four point seven million dollars?”
“I swear.”
David pointed to the transactions.
“The deposits began six months ago.”
The same month Isabella contacted him.
Marcus looked at Thomas.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't know.”
“Someone was paying you.”
Thomas shook his head.
“I never received a cent.”
Marcus studied the documents.
The money had been deposited into an account using Thomas's identity.
But the account had never been accessed from Thomas's devices.
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“Someone stole his identity.”
David nodded.
“That is what it looks like.”
Thomas looked at Marcus.
“Sir, please believe me.”
Marcus didn't answer.
Because something wasn't right.
He had spent his life around people who lied beautifully.
And Thomas was telling the truth.
At least about the money.
Marcus returned to the security office.
He ordered every camera recording from the previous six months.
They watched hours of footage.
Thomas entering rooms.
Thomas speaking with staff.
Thomas driving home.
Thomas visiting the hospital.
Nothing.
Then Marcus noticed something.
“Stop.”
The technician paused the recording.
A woman stood in the background.
Barely visible.
Marcus leaned closer.
“Zoom.”
The image sharpened.
The woman was wearing a hospital uniform.
Marcus stared.
“Who is that?”
The technician shook his head.
“I don't know.”
David stepped closer.
Then froze.
“I do.”
Marcus looked at him.
“Who?”
David's face became pale.
“Your father's former secretary.”
Marcus frowned.
“She died.”
David shook his head.
“No.”
“She died seven years ago.”
“She was declared dead.”
Marcus stared.
“What does that mean?”
David whispered:
“It means someone wanted us to believe she was dead.”
They searched the old Sterling personnel files.
The woman's name was Margaret Lane.
Edward Sterling's executive secretary.
She had worked for him for fourteen years.
She had access to:
financial records,
trust documents,
private correspondence,
medical files,
security codes.
And six years earlier, she had disappeared.
Three weeks before Edward's death.
Officially, she had died in a car accident.
But the body had never been publicly identified.
Marcus stared at the file.
“Where is she now?”
David pointed at the screen.
“There.”
The woman from the security footage.
Marcus felt a cold wave pass through him.
“She's alive.”
“And she's working for Isabella.”
They found her three hours later.
Not in the city.
Not at a Sterling property.
At a small apartment thirty miles outside Chicago.
Marcus entered first.
The apartment was empty.
Except for one chair.
And a phone sitting on the table.
The phone rang.
Marcus answered.
Isabella's voice came through.
“You finally found her.”
Marcus's jaw tightened.
“Where is Margaret?”
“Safe.”
“You used her.”
“I used everyone.”
“Why?”
“Because nobody listened when I told the truth.”
Marcus looked around.
“You've destroyed your own family.”
“No.”
Isabella's voice became colder.
“Your family destroyed itself.”
“What do you want?”
“The same thing I've always wanted.”
“Money?”
“No.”
“Power?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Silence.
Then:
“Recognition.”
Marcus frowned.
“You already have the Sterling name.”
“No.”
Her voice trembled.
“I have a name that was stolen from me.”
Marcus froze.
“What are you talking about?”
“I am not Vivian's daughter.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“You don't know anything.”
“Then tell me.”
“I am Edward Sterling's daughter.”
Marcus said nothing.
“I was born before you.”
Silence.
“Your father loved me.”
Marcus's hands tightened.
“Then why did he hide you?”
“Because your grandfather ordered him to.”
“Why?”
“Because I was proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That Edward had discovered the original Sterling heir.”
Marcus's heart began pounding.
“Who?”
Isabella whispered:
“Me.”
Marcus stared at the phone.
“You were the original heir.”
“Yes.”
“Then why was Khloe chosen?”
“Because your mother betrayed me.”
“What did she do?”
“She erased me.”
Marcus shook his head.
“She couldn't erase your DNA.”
“She didn't need to.”
Isabella laughed bitterly.
“She erased my existence.”
Marcus remembered the photograph.
The hidden daughter.
The altered records.
The missing DNA.
Everything suddenly connected.
“Why attack Khloe?”
“Because she was carrying what was mine.”
“The baby?”
“Yes.”
“You want the child.”
“I want my bloodline recognized.”
Marcus stared at the phone.
“Then why threaten me?”
“Because you are the only person who can stop me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because the trust requires your consent.”
Marcus froze.
“My consent?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you're the final surviving legal descendant.”
Marcus's voice became quiet.
“Unless I refuse.”
“You lose everything.”
“And if I agree?”
“Khloe keeps her life.”
Marcus's heart stopped.
“What are you offering?”
Isabella's answer was almost a whisper.
“Your life for hers.”
The line went dead.
Marcus stood alone in the apartment.
Then he heard footsteps behind him.
He turned.
Margaret Lane stood in the doorway.
Older.
Thin.
Terrified.
Marcus stared.
“You're alive.”
She nodded.
“Barely.”
“Why did you work for Isabella?”
Margaret looked toward the phone.
“Because she showed me something.”
“What?”
“Your father's final letter.”
Marcus froze.
“Where is it?”
Margaret pulled an envelope from inside her coat.
“I've kept it for six years.”
Marcus reached for it.
But Margaret pulled it back.
“First you need to know something.”
“What?”
“Isabella isn't the only person who betrayed you.”
Marcus frowned.
“Who else?”
Margaret looked directly into his eyes.
“Your mother.”
Marcus felt his stomach drop.
“She wasn't protecting you.”
“What was she doing?”
“She was protecting the person she believed should inherit everything.”
“Who?”
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
“Not Isabella.”
Marcus stared.
“Then who?”
Margaret whispered:
“Khloe.”
Marcus went completely still.
“The entire war,” Margaret continued, “was designed to force Khloe into becoming the sole controller of the Sterling fortune.”
Marcus shook his head.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It will.”
Margaret handed him the envelope.
“Read your father's letter.”
Marcus opened it.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
The first sentence made his heart stop.
Marcus, if you are reading this, then the woman you call your mother has already chosen the heir.
He read the next line.
And that heir is not you.
Marcus's hands began to shake.
He looked toward the window.
Rain streaked the glass.
Behind him, Margaret whispered:
“Your mother didn't betray the Sterling family.”
She paused.
“She betrayed you.”
Marcus looked down at the letter.
And for the first time, he wondered whether Isabella had ever been the real enemy.
Because the person closest to him—
May you like
the person who had shaped his entire life—
might have been the one pulling every string from the beginning.
