Chapter 2 - The Man Who Spoke With My Authority
By six that evening, my study looked like a war room.
Folders covered the desk.
Payroll records.
Medical leave requests.
Employee complaints.
Security reports.
Termination notices.
I had asked for five years of records.
What arrived told me I didn't need five.
George Harland had been abusing my authority for years.
The first complaint came from a gardener named Samuel.
Threatened with termination after requesting medical leave.
The second came from a housekeeper.
Salary reduced without explanation.
The third was from a cook.
Asked to work through a fever.
Then there were seventeen more.
Seventeen people.
All describing the same pattern.
Harland would tell them that I hated weakness.
That I expected absolute loyalty.
That anyone who couldn't work was disposable.
And because everyone knew my reputation, they believed him.
My security chief, Marcus, stood across from my desk.
“Sir, there's more.”
He placed a folder in front of me.
I opened it.
Every employee Harland had removed had been replaced by someone connected to him.
Cousins.
Friends.
Former business associates.
People who owed him money.
I looked up.
“How much?”
Marcus answered quietly.
“Approximately four hundred thousand dollars.”
“From what?”
“Payroll manipulation. Vendor contracts. Maintenance invoices.”
My expression hardened.
“He's stealing from me.”
“Yes.”
“While using my name to terrorize my staff.”
“Yes.”
I leaned back.
For a few seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Marcus said,
“There is one more thing.”
He placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed Maria standing outside a pharmacy.
Harland was behind her.
He appeared to be shouting.
I zoomed in.
Maria was crying.
“What is this?”
“Security camera from three weeks ago.”
“What happened?”
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
“Harland told her she was replaceable.”
I stared at the photograph.
Then I noticed something else.
A little girl stood behind Maria.
Nora.
She was holding her mother's coat.
I remembered the way she had scrubbed my shirt.
I closed my eyes.
My childhood came rushing back.
I was eight.
My mother was thirty-two.
She cleaned hotel rooms.
One winter, she became sick.
She still went to work.
I remembered sitting outside a hotel laundry room waiting for her.
Her hands had been swollen.
Her fingers cracked.
Blood had stained the towels.
I had asked her why she didn't stop.
She smiled.
“Because people like us don't get to stop.”
I had hated that sentence.
I promised myself I would never be powerless again.
Years later, I became powerful enough that people stopped telling me no.
But I had never asked myself what my power meant to the people underneath it.
Until Nora.
I stood.
“Where is Harland?”
Marcus looked at his phone.
“He left the estate twenty minutes ago.”
“Find him.”
“Do you want him brought here?”
“No.”
I walked toward the window.
“Not yet.”
Marcus waited.
“I want him followed.”
“Understood.”
“And don't let him know.”
Marcus nodded.
I turned.
“Also, find Maria a private doctor.”
“She may not accept.”
“Then tell her it comes from me.”
Marcus smiled faintly.
“She'll probably still refuse.”
“Then tell her it's not charity.”
“What is it?”
“An employee benefit.”
He nodded.
I walked upstairs.
Nora was sitting beside her mother.
She looked up when I entered.
“Mr. Luca?”
“Yes?”
“Can Mama stay?”
“She can stay.”
“Forever?”
I smiled.
“As long as she wants.”
Nora looked relieved.
Then she asked,
“Are you rich?”
I almost laughed.
“Why?”
“Because Mama says rich people don't care about little people.”
I looked at Maria.
She covered her face.
“I didn't say that.”
Nora shrugged.
“Maybe you did.”
I sat beside them.
“Your mother is wrong.”
Maria looked surprised.
I continued.
“Some rich people don't care.”
“Are you one?”
“No.”
Nora considered me.
“Then why do you look scary?”
Maria gasped.
“Nora!”
I laughed.
“That's fair.”
Nora smiled.
Then she leaned against her mother's arm.
I watched them.
Something inside me shifted.
This was no longer an investigation.
It was personal.
Harland had stolen money.
He had abused employees.
He had lied.
But the worst thing he'd done was teach a three-year-old that love had to be earned.
I couldn't forgive that.
That night, Marcus called.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We followed Harland.”
“And?”
“He went to a private club.”
I frowned.
“Which one?”
Marcus gave me the name.
I knew it.
It belonged to Victor Hale.
My oldest rival.
The man who had spent ten years trying to take my business.
I stared into the darkness.
“Send me the photographs.”
A second later, my phone buzzed.
Harland was sitting across from Victor.
Between them was a folder.
And beside that folder was a photograph of Maria and Nora.
My blood ran cold.
Harland wasn't working alone.
May you like
He was selling my household secrets to my enemy.
And somehow, Maria and Nora were part of the deal.
