Chapter 2

Sarah woke up in her pristine white bed, the pain in her leg a dull, throbbing ache.

Ethan was there, his face etched with "concern."

"Sarah, my love, you fainted, you lost some blood, the doctors said it was the shock."

She looked down, her leg, it was amputated higher, much higher than the doctors initially said was necessary.

"The infection, Sarah," Ethan said, his voice soft, full of false sorrow, "it spread, they had to take more to save you, I'm so sorry."

His secret orders, she knew, ensure permanent, severe disability.

Then he told her about her family, tears welling in his eyes, a masterful performance.

"Your father, your brother," he choked out, "their businesses... a tragic series of misfortunes, they're ruined, Sarah, completely ruined, I tried to help, but it was too late."

He held her hand, his touch making her skin crawl.

Her father and brother, respected businessmen, their lives' work destroyed, by him.

To isolate her, to leave her with nothing, no one, but him.

Mr. Henderson had stood in Ethan's office, his face pale.

"Sir, the additional amputation, her family's businesses... is this necessary? She's already lost so much."

Ethan had turned from the window, his eyes like chips of ice.

"Necessary, Henderson? She needs to understand her place now, she needs to understand that I control everything, her body, her family, her world, fear is a great teacher."

Henderson had simply nodded, "Yes, Mr. Gold."

Ethan wanted her to be a broken doll, dependent, controlled.

Sarah lay still, the weight of his betrayal pressing down on her, crushing her.

She was confined to a wheelchair, her world shrunk to the opulent prison of her wing in the estate.

Maria, her loyal assistant, her only true confidante, stayed by her side, her eyes full of quiet fury on Sarah's behalf.

"We will find a way, Sarah," Maria would whisper, "he will not win."

Sarah nodded, a flicker of her old fire in her eyes, the Lexington Dossier was her secret, her hope.

She had started it after the first Chloe incident, a small file then, growing with each new betrayal, each piece of evidence meticulously gathered by Ms. Albright's discreet inquiries.

Corporate filings, offshore accounts, timelines, everything.

One night, unable to sleep, Sarah saw a sliver of light under Ethan's private study door, long after he should have been asleep.

She wheeled herself closer, Maria helping her navigate the silent corridors.

Ethan wasn't there.

Where did he go, so late, so secretly?

Maria, ever resourceful, noticed a faint seam in the ornate paneling of the grand library, a room Ethan had "renovated for Sarah's comfort" after the first Chloe incident.

A hidden door, leading to a private elevator.

Sarah felt a bitter laugh rise in her throat, "Renovated for me? Or for his secrets?"

The elevator was new, sleek, silent. It went up.

They took it, Sarah's heart pounding, up to a floor she never knew existed, a secret penthouse.

The doors opened into a lavishly decorated space, filled with Ethan's personal art, paintings she' d never seen.

Portraits, dozens of them, all of Chloe, Chloe laughing, Chloe sleeping, Chloe holding a baby.

Jett. Ethan's son.

Sarah remembered asking Ethan, years ago, to paint her, just once, he'd always said he was too busy, no inspiration.

The inspiration was here, in this shrine to his mistress.

The passage, this elevator, wasn't just a way to hide his affair, it was a monument to it, built into the heart of their home, their life.

Then she heard them, Ethan's voice, Chloe's laughter, from a room down the hall.

Sarah wheeled herself closer, Maria a silent shadow behind her.

"He's beautiful, Ethan," Chloe cooed, "our Jett, he looks just like you, he will be a great CEO one day."

"He will be the only heir, Chloe, I promise you," Ethan said, his voice full of a tenderness Sarah hadn't heard in years, a tenderness that was never truly hers.

"Sarah's family, her little allies, they've all been neutralized, their businesses are dust, she has no one left to prop her up."

Neutralized, like they were enemies in a war, her father, her brother.

Chloe giggled, "And Sarah? Is she still playing the tragic queen in her lonely tower?"

"She's broken, just as planned," Ethan said, a cruel satisfaction in his tone, "confined, dependent, she won't be a problem anymore."

Sarah felt the rage, cold and sharp, rise within her, but Maria's hand on her shoulder, a silent warning, kept her still.

This was not the time. The Lexington Dossier was not yet complete.