Chapter 6 – The Billionaire Who Refused to See
Chapter 6 – The Billionaire Who Refused to See
The blades of William Sterling's helicopter disappeared into the gray morning sky, leaving Sterling Manor wrapped in an uneasy silence.
From the front steps, Isabella watched until the aircraft became nothing more than a dark speck against the clouds.
Only then did she turn away.
The gentle smile that had charmed New York's elite the night before vanished without a trace.
"So," she said quietly, "he believed every word."
Marcus Hale stood a respectful distance behind her.
"He never questioned Ethan's trip to Maine."
Isabella's lips curved into a faint smile.
"William has always preferred comforting lies over painful truths."
She glanced toward the mansion's towering windows.
"That's what makes him useful."
Forty minutes later, William's helicopter landed on the roof of Sterling Development Headquarters in downtown Manhattan.
The boardroom on the thirty-eighth floor was already filled with executives waiting for him.
The company was preparing to finalize the largest real-estate acquisition in its history—a project worth nearly three billion dollars.
Normally, William would have been focused.
Today, he wasn't.
As the meeting began, his thoughts drifted back to Ethan.
It had been almost a week since he'd spoken to his son.
He reached for his phone.
No new messages.
He smiled to himself.
"He's probably enjoying Maine."
Isabella had sent him photographs every day.
Ethan fishing beside a lake.
Ethan roasting marshmallows.
Ethan hiking through pine forests.
Normal family pictures.
Yet something about them bothered him.
He couldn't explain why.
"Mr. Sterling?"
William looked up.
The chief financial officer cleared his throat.
"Should we proceed with the acquisition?"
William blinked.
"I'm sorry."
"The vote?"
"Right."
He nodded absentmindedly.
"Approved."
The executives exchanged puzzled glances.
William Sterling never lost focus.
Never.
Meanwhile, back at Sterling Manor...
Emma hid inside the mansion's old laundry room, Ethan's diary spread open across a wooden folding table.
She had read it three times.
Each reading revealed another detail she had overlooked.
This time, she noticed small pencil marks in the margins.
Not words.
Numbers.
Tiny page references.
14...
32...
47...
The diary contained only thirty-one pages.
Emma frowned.
Missing pages.
The references pointed to entries that no longer existed.
Someone had carefully removed them.
Samuel entered quietly through the back door.
"You found something."
Emma nodded.
"The missing pages mattered."
Samuel examined the diary.
"They always do."
Emma carefully ran her fingers along the torn binding.
The pages hadn't simply been ripped out.
They had been cut with a razor blade.
Professional.
Precise.
Whoever removed them wanted the diary to appear damaged by accident.
Samuel sighed.
"They're getting smarter."
"No."
Emma looked toward the hidden basement entrance.
"They're getting desperate."
Upstairs, Isabella walked calmly through the mansion.
Every servant greeted her warmly.
"Good morning, Mrs. Sterling."
She smiled graciously.
"Good morning."
The cook complimented her charity speech.
The gardener thanked her for approving new equipment.
A young maid apologized for dusting the wrong guest room.
Isabella forgave her immediately.
Everyone adored her.
No one noticed that she quietly observed every face.
Every movement.
Every whisper.
When she reached the west hallway, she paused.
The enormous Baroque painting covering the hidden entrance hung exactly where it should.
Perfectly aligned.
She rested one hand on its golden frame.
Almost affectionately.
"Has anyone touched it?"
Marcus appeared behind her.
"No evidence."
"No evidence..."
She repeated the words thoughtfully.
"...doesn't mean no one tried."
Emma knew she couldn't wait any longer.
If Ethan had truly been moved to Basement Seven, every passing hour reduced her chances of finding him alive.
She looked at Samuel.
"I'm going tonight."
The old groundskeeper shook his head.
"The maze changes every twelve hours."
"Then I'll learn it."
"You can't."
"I have to."
Samuel hesitated before reaching into his coat once more.
This time he removed a folded blueprint.
Much of it had burned away, leaving only fragments.
"This is the oldest map I could save."
Emma carefully unfolded it.
The tunnels beneath Sterling Manor resembled the roots of an ancient tree.
Most pathways connected.
Some ended abruptly.
One section had been completely scratched out.
Basement Seven.
Someone had deliberately erased it.
"There has to be another copy."
Samuel looked away.
"There was."
"What happened to it?"
"Olivia took it."
Emma's eyes widened.
"And then?"
"She disappeared."
Across the city, William finally found a quiet moment between meetings.
He called Isabella.
She answered on the second ring.
"Hi, darling."
"How's everything?"
"Peaceful."
"And Ethan?"
A brief pause.
"He's wonderful."
"Can I talk to him?"
Another pause.
This one slightly longer.
"He's out hiking with my father."
William smiled.
"Already?"
"They woke up early."
"I miss him."
"I know."
Her voice softened.
"He misses you too."
William relaxed.
"I'll bring him something back from Boston."
"He'd love that."
The call ended.
William stared thoughtfully at his phone.
Something still felt...
Wrong.
His assistant entered.
"Sir?"
"Yes?"
"A courier delivered this."
She handed him a plain brown envelope with no return address.
Only his name.
William Sterling.
Nothing else.
He opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
His breath caught.
It showed Ethan.
Not in Maine.
Inside a concrete room.
The lighting was dim.
The walls were gray.
A date stamp in the corner read...
Yesterday.
William stood so abruptly his chair crashed backward.
"No..."
He examined the picture again.
Perhaps it was fake.
Edited.
Impossible.
Then he noticed something else.
Ethan was holding a newspaper.
Yesterday's newspaper.
His hands began to shake.
On the back of the photograph someone had written six words.
Ask your wife about Basement Seven.
William frowned.
Basement Seven?
Sterling Manor had six basement levels.
He knew because he'd approved every renovation himself.
There wasn't...
A seventh.
Was there?
He immediately called Marcus.
The head of security answered.
"Mr. Sterling."
"Marcus."
"Yes, sir."
"Does the manor have a Basement Seven?"
Silence.
Just for a second.
Almost imperceptible.
Then Marcus laughed politely.
"No, sir."
William relaxed slightly.
"I received a strange photograph."
"What kind?"
"Someone claims Ethan isn't in Maine."
Marcus didn't hesitate.
"It's probably extortion."
"You think so?"
"Absolutely."
"We've dealt with this before."
William sighed.
"I suppose you're right."
Marcus smiled to himself after the call ended.
His lie had lasted less than ten seconds.
It was enough.
Emma spent the afternoon searching Ethan's bedroom.
She knew Isabella would eventually realize the diary was missing.
Time was running out.
Most of the room looked untouched.
Books.
Baseball trophies.
School certificates.
Everything exactly as Ethan had left it.
Then Emma noticed something unusual.
One bookshelf was slightly crooked.
She pushed against it.
Nothing happened.
She checked beneath.
Tiny scratch marks covered the hardwood floor.
Another hidden door.
She pulled harder.
The shelf silently swung outward.
Behind it lay a narrow storage compartment.
Inside was a small metal box.
Locked.
Emma smiled.
"The key."
She removed Samuel's rusted key marked VII.
It fit perfectly.
The lock clicked open.
Inside rested dozens of folded drawings.
Crayon sketches.
Most showed Emma, William, and Ethan together.
Happy.
Laughing.
Safe.
Then the drawings changed.
Dark hallways.
Crying children.
Black walls.
A woman with enormous empty eyes.
Every drawing featured one detail repeated again and again.
A clock.
Always showing...
7:17.
Emma frowned.
Why that time?
She unfolded the final drawing.
Unlike the others, it wasn't made with crayons.
It was drawn in pencil.
Carefully.
Realistically.
It showed Sterling Manor from above.
Beneath the house...
Ethan had drawn an enormous underground structure.
Far larger than the mansion itself.
At its center stood a circular room labeled in shaky handwriting:
"The Heart."
A single arrow pointed toward it.
Underneath, Ethan had written:
"Dad built the house... but someone else built the walls."
Emma felt a cold shiver.
She remembered the note wrapped around Samuel's key.
Never trust the man who built the walls.
Just then, her phone vibrated.
A text message from an unknown number.
It contained only one sentence.
William Sterling is looking in the wrong direction.
Before she could react, another message arrived.
This one included a photograph.
May you like
William was sitting alone in his Boston hotel room...
Completely unaware that someone had taken the picture through his window just moments earlier.
