Chapter 5 5

The helicopter blades sliced through the air, creating a rhythmic thrum that vibrated in Kiley's chest. Below them, the Hamptons coastline stretched out, a ribbon of gold sand and blue water.

The pilot banked, revealing the Stafford Estate. It wasn't just a house; it was a compound. A sprawling main mansion, three guest houses, a private beach, and acres of manicured gardens. It was the seat of a dynasty.

The helicopter touched down on the private helipad. The rotors slowed.

Before the blades had even stopped spinning, a man in a dark suit was running across the lawn. He wasn't running like a servant; he was running like a linebacker charging a quarterback.

"Kiley!"

It was Keegan. Her second brother. The Federal Prosecutor. The Bulldog of the Southern District.

Kiley stepped out of the chopper, and Keegan nearly tackled her. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off her feet. He smelled of old books and gunpowder.

"I can't believe you're back," he buried his face in her neck. "I missed you so much, Ki."

He set her down, holding her at arm's length. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating in the courtroom, were wet. Then, they hardened.

"That bastard," Keegan growled. "I saw the photos. I saw the divorce papers. I'm going to ruin him, Kiley. I'm going to audit his company back to the Stone Age. I'll have the IRS so far up his ass he'll taste ink."

He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over a contact.

Kiley reached out and covered his hand. "No, Keegan."

"Why not?" Keegan demanded. "He humiliated you! And that... that plastic witch he's with! I ran her background, Kiley. Fake name, sealed juvenile records, three botched nose jobs. She's a fraud!"

"I know," Kiley said softly. "But this is personal. Don't use your badge for me. It's beneath us."

Bradley walked up behind them, carrying Kiley's bag. "She's right, Keegan. There are other ways to skin a cat. Or a Baker."

They walked toward the main house. The massive oak doors swung open. A line of staff stood in the foyer, bowing in unison.

"Welcome home, Miss Stafford," the head butler said, his voice thick with emotion.

Kiley walked into the grand hall. It smelled of beeswax and lilies-the scent of her childhood. She looked at the wall to her right. There, hanging in a gilded frame, was a portrait of her at sixteen, holding her cello.

She looked away quickly.

"Is Dad here?" she asked.

"In the study," Bradley said. "He's... waiting."

Kiley took a deep breath. She walked down the long corridor to the heavy double doors at the end. She knocked.

"Enter." The voice was gravel and iron.

Kiley pushed the door open. Isam Stafford sat behind a desk that looked like it had been carved from the hull of a galleon. He was older than she remembered. His hair was completely white now, but his eyes were as piercing as ever.

He didn't stand up. He just watched her walk in.

"So," Isam said, closing the file he was reading. "You're done playing housemaid?"

Keegan stepped forward defensively. "Dad, don't start."

Isam held up a hand, silencing his son. He looked at Kiley. "I told you three years ago. If you walked out that door to marry that boy, you were on your own. You wanted to live like a commoner. How was it?"

Kiley stood straight. She didn't look down. "It was a lesson, Father."

"A lesson," Isam repeated. He stood up slowly, leaning on his cane. He walked around the desk and stopped in front of her.

He looked at her thin face. He saw the shadows under her eyes. The hardness in Isam's expression cracked, just for a second.

"You're too skinny," he grunted. "Did they starve you?"

"Spiritual starvation," Kiley said.

Isam nodded. "Well. You're a Stafford. We don't wallow. We conquer."

He turned back to his desk and picked up a thick binder. He tossed it onto the mahogany surface. It landed with a heavy thud.

"If you're back, you work. No free rides."

Kiley stepped forward and looked at the cover. KS World Hotel - Restructuring Plan.

"The Manhattan property," Kiley said. "It's failing."

"Bleeding money," Isam corrected. "Management is incompetent. The board wants to sell it."

"Give it to me," Kiley said instantly.

Keegan's eyes widened. "Ki, take a break. You just got divorced yesterday. Go to the spa. Go to Paris."

"I don't want a vacation," Kiley said, her voice steel. "I want a war. I need to focus on something other than..." She trailed off.

Isam studied her. A slow, shark-like smile spread across his face. "Good. Anger is a better fuel than sorrow."

"But I have conditions," Kiley said. "I go in undercover. No one knows I'm a Stafford. Not yet."

"Why?" Bradley asked.

Kiley looked at the binder. "Because Baker Corp is trying to renew their supplier contract with the hotel. I want to see how they do business when they think no one is watching."

Isam laughed. It was a dry, barking sound. "That's my girl. You have three months. Fix it, or I sell it."

"Deal," Kiley said.