Chapter 3

Carissa descended the sweeping, wool-carpeted staircase. Before her foot hit the bottom step, a stern-faced maid named Maeve blocked her path.

"Madam Essie is waiting for you in the parlor," Maeve ordered, turning on her heel and expecting Carissa to follow.

Carissa walked through the dim corridors. The parlor smelled of heavy incense and old mahogany. The air was so thick it felt hard to breathe.

Essie Gates sat in a high-backed velvet chair. Her silver hair was perfectly coiffed, her face a map of cold, hard lines. She was fingering a string of antique rosary beads, her eyes fixed on the fireplace.

Carissa stopped three feet away. "Mrs. Gates."

Essie let out a sharp scoff. She stopped moving the beads and snapped her hawkish gaze onto Carissa. "You are a stain on this family."

Carissa's fingers dug into the fabric of her coat. "I was a victim four years ago-"

Essie slammed her palm against the armrest. The loud crack made Carissa flinch. "Shut your mouth! You sold your own flesh and blood to us three years ago for five million dollars. You have no right to play the victim in my house."

The words hit Carissa like a physical blow to the head. Her mouth fell open. The blood drained from her face, leaving her dizzy. Sold? Five million dollars?

Essie mistook her shock for guilt. She sneered, picking up a bone-china teacup to take a slow sip.

When Essie set the cup down, her voice was eerily calm. "Since you took our money, your body belongs to the Gates family. Saving my grandson is your contractual obligation."

The sheer objectification made Carissa's stomach violently heave. A hot, burning anger ignited in her chest. She snapped her head up, her eyes blazing.

Maeve stepped forward, her body language screaming a physical threat.

Essie closed her eyes, looking exhausted by Carissa's mere presence. "Move into the estate. Prepare your body for the pregnancy."

Carissa's chest he heave. She saw Isadore's pale face in her mind. She swallowed the scream building in her throat. If she fought back now, she would be thrown out, and she would never find out who took that five million dollars.

She forced her facial muscles to relax. She manufactured a look of greedy hesitation. "I need time to consider the... compensation for this new arrangement."

Essie's eyes snapped open, gleaming with validated disgust. "There it is. The rat shows its tail." She waved her hand dismissively. "Get this filthy woman out of my sight."

Carissa turned and walked out. She dug her fingernails so hard into her palms that the skin broke. The physical pain kept her grounded.

By the time she reached the front gates, a freezing drizzle had started to fall.

The security guard stared straight ahead, refusing to offer her an umbrella. Carissa pulled her thin coat tighter and walked out into the rain.

She stood on the empty, winding road, pulling out her phone. No Uber driver would accept a ride from this ultra-exclusive zip code.

A black Maybach glided out of the estate gates. The rear window was rolled halfway down. Guilford's sharp profile was visible in the shadows.

The car sped past her without slowing down. The tires hit a puddle, splashing freezing, muddy water all over Carissa's jeans.

Carissa stared at the red taillights disappearing into the mist. She wiped the dirty rain from her face. The last shred of vulnerability inside her died, replaced by a cold, hard resolve.

She walked for nearly an hour in the freezing rain, her boots slipping on the slick pavement, until she finally reached the main highway bordering the exclusive zip code. Pulling out her phone with numb fingers, she managed to hail a premium rideshare. When the sleek black SUV finally pulled up, she slid onto the pristine leather seat. The driver eyed her dripping clothes through the rearview mirror but said nothing as the heater blasted over her shivering frame. She gave the driver an address in Queens.

Staring out at the blurred neon lights of the city, Carissa made a silent vow. She was going to find out exactly where that money went.