Chapter 2 - THE KING OF ASHES
Spencer walked toward the window,
looking out over the ten-acre estate as if he were surveying his kingdom.
I’ve had enough of your accusations,
Taylor,
he said,
his voice reflecting a terrifying arrogance.
The business is at a turning point,
and I cannot have your domestic drama dragging me down.
Kaylie walked over to him,
placing a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of ownership.
She’s right,
Spencer,
Kaylie murmured,
her eyes locked on Taylor.
She’s unstable,
and the stress is clearly affecting her mind.
Taylor felt the phantom pain of her C-section throb,
but she didn't flinch.
The baby stirred in the carrier,
letting out a soft,
fragile whimper.
Martha stepped closer to Taylor,
her shadow falling over the newborn.
If you can’t keep your house in order,
maybe you don’t deserve to be in it,
Martha whispered.
Spencer turned back,
his eyes cold and predatory.
I want you out,
Taylor,
he declared,
the finality of it striking like a hammer.
I’ve already spoken to my lawyers,
and this house,
along with everything in it,
is staying with me.
You can take your things and the baby,
and go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.
Taylor felt a laugh bubble up in her throat,
but she suppressed it.
You’re kicking me out?
she asked,
her voice eerily calm.
Five days after major surgery?
With your child?
Spencer didn't even blink,
his heart as hardened as the stone walls of the mansion.
You’re a distraction,
he said,
shrugging his shoulders.
My mother will help me find a proper nanny,
someone who understands my position.
I’ll give you an hour to pack a bag,
then I’m having the security codes changed.
Kaylie smirked,
running her fingers along the silk of Taylor’s robe.
Don’t worry about the robe,
dear,
Kaylie mocked.
It fits me much better anyway.
Taylor looked at Martha,
who was already nodding in agreement with her son.
You’re making a mistake,
Spencer,
Taylor said softly,
her eyes dark and unreadable.
Spencer laughed,
a sound of pure derision.
The only mistake I made was thinking you were on my level,
he replied.
I built this life from nothing,
and I won’t let you ruin it.
Taylor took a slow breath,
careful not to strain her stitches.
She thought about the "Solomon" empire,
the construction firm that had made him famous.
She thought about the secret board meetings she attended via encrypted calls.
She thought about the T.S. Holding Company,
the entity that provided every cent of his capital.
Spencer had no idea that T.S. stood for Taylor Solomon.
He believed she was just a quiet girl with a modest inheritance.
He believed he was a genius,
but he was merely a puppet on a string she had woven.
I’ll leave,
Taylor said,
stepping back toward the door.
But remember this moment,
Spencer,
she added,
her voice dropping to a whisper.
Remember the day you decided your wife and daughter were "distractions."
Spencer turned his back on her,
dismissing her as if she were a servant.
Get her out of my sight,
Mother,
he ordered.
Martha grabbed Taylor’s arm,
her grip surprisingly strong.
Let’s go,
dramatic girl,
Martha hissed.
Taylor allowed herself to be led toward the stairs,
her hand hovering over Lisa.
She didn't cry,
she didn't beg,
and she didn't look back.
The mansion felt like a tomb now,
a hollow structure of lies.
As she reached the front door,
she saw Spencer’s limited-edition Italian sports car in the driveway.
The car he bragged about at every gala,
the car that cost more than most people’s homes.
She reached into her purse and felt the backup key fob she always kept.
Not today,
she thought,
her lips curling into a cold smile.
She walked out into the humid Virginia afternoon,
the door slamming shut behind her.
She didn't call a cab this time.
She pulled out her phone and sent a three-word message to her head of security.
"Initiate Protocol Zero."
The king thought he had won,
May you like
but he was about to find out that his throne was made of paper.
And Taylor was holding the match.
