Chapter 8 - THE PRICE OF TRUST
By sunrise, Ivy Lancaster had become a criminal suspect.
Not officially arrested.
Not yet.
But her name was attached to bank transfers she had never seen, shell accounts she had never opened, and an internal payroll credential that showed permissions far beyond those of a housekeeper.
Celia Voss spread the records across Ronan's dining table.
"The transfers are real."
Ivy stood at the far end with her arms folded.
"Then someone made them."
"Yes."
"Not me."
"I believe you."
Ivy laughed without humor.
"Belief is having a terrible night."
Ronan stood near the window speaking to a bank executive.
"Freeze the recipient accounts."
He listened.
"I don't care whose authorization is attached."
Another pause.
"Then wake your chairman."
He ended the call.
Ivy watched him.
"You cannot order banks around forever."
"Today I only need ten minutes."
"And tomorrow?"
Ronan looked at her.
"Tomorrow we prove who did it."
Ivy pointed at the records.
"Someone built this for almost a year."
"Yes."
"Before Vivienne whipped me."
"Yes."
"Before Dorian saw the ledger."
Ronan hesitated.
"Probably."
Ivy felt sick.
"Then why me?"
Celia answered.
"Maybe because of Celeste."
Ivy looked at her.
"They knew who I was when I applied."
Nobody said no.
The idea was almost worse than random cruelty.
She remembered the day of her interview.
Vivienne had been there.
She had watched Ivy answer questions from the household manager.
At the time, Ivy had thought the woman was simply bored.
Now she wondered if Vivienne had been recognizing a surname.
"Get me my original application," Ivy said.
Ronan nodded to an assistant.
Five minutes later, the file arrived.
Ivy opened it.
Her employment application contained normal information.
Address.
Education.
References.
Emergency contacts.
At the top, someone had written a handwritten note in blue ink.
APPROVED - V.H.
Ivy looked up.
"Vivienne approved my hiring?"
Ronan frowned.
"She had no reason to be involved in household recruitment."
"But she was."
Celia examined the signature.
"Looks authentic."
Ivy's anger became cold.
"She wanted me here."
Ronan's expression changed.
"Or Augustus did."
"Why spend eleven months creating a theft case around me?"
Celia leaned back.
"Insurance."
"Against what?"
"Against the day Celeste's evidence surfaced."
Ivy stared at her.
"Discredit the daughter before the mother can speak from the grave."
"Exactly."
The room fell silent.
Declan entered.
He looked exhausted.
"We traced the first fraudulent transfer."
Ivy's heartbeat accelerated.
"Who authorized it?"
Declan looked at Ronan.
"Your credentials."
Ronan went still.
"Impossible."
"The authorization token came from your office terminal."
"I was in Milan that week."
"I know."
"Then someone cloned it."
"Maybe."
Declan placed a tablet on the table.
"Or used the master recovery key."
Ronan's face darkened.
"Who has that?"
Declan did not answer immediately.
Ivy noticed.
"Who?"
Ronan looked at his security chief.
"Say it."
Declan's jaw tightened.
"Me."
The silence was brutal.
Ivy stared at him.
Declan Shaw had been Ronan's head of security for seven years.
He had helped search for Dorian.
He had found the fake badge.
He had controlled the locked ballroom.
He had also possessed the key capable of creating the fraudulent transfers.
"Did you do it?" Ivy asked.
Declan met her eyes.
"No."
"Can you prove that?"
"Not yet."
"Then you're just another person asking me to believe him."
Declan accepted the blow.
Ronan looked furious.
"Who else knew where the recovery key was stored?"
"You."
"Anyone else?"
"Your father, before he died."
"That was four years ago."
"And Alistair."
Ronan closed his eyes briefly.
Another road led to his uncle.
Another road that might be too obvious.
"Where is Alistair now?"
Declan answered.
"Gone again."
Ronan slammed his palm against the table.
The sound made everyone jump.
He immediately lowered his voice.
"Find him."
"We are."
"No."
Ronan stepped closer.
"You are searching his known locations."
He pointed toward the file.
"Find the places he thinks I don't know."
Declan nodded.
As he turned to leave, Ivy spoke.
"Your phone."
Declan stopped.
"What?"
"Give Celia your phone."
The room went quiet.
Declan looked at Ronan.
Ivy almost smiled.
"There."
"What?" Declan asked.
"That look."
She pointed between them.
"You all say you want the truth until the truth requires you to be treated like suspects too."
Ronan looked at Declan.
"Give her the phone."
Declan slowly placed it on the table.
Ivy looked at Ronan.
"Yours too."
Celia raised an eyebrow.
Ronan stared at Ivy for two seconds.
Then he placed his phone beside Declan's.
"Anything else?"
"Your office laptop."
"Done."
"Personal tablet."
"Done."
"Private email."
Ronan almost smiled.
"You are enjoying this."
"A little."
It was the first almost-human moment between them since the ballroom.
It disappeared when Ivy's phone rang.
Theo.
She answered.
"Hey."
"Ivy, someone is outside."
Her blood froze.
"At Celia's apartment?"
Ronan was already moving.
"Yes."
"Do not open the door."
"They aren't knocking."
Theo whispered.
"They're in the hallway."
Ivy looked at Celia.
"Who knows that address?"
Celia's face drained.
"Almost nobody."
"Theo," Ivy said, "go into the bathroom and lock it."
A sound came through the phone.
The apartment door opening.
Theo breathed sharply.
Ivy's heart stopped.
"Theo?"
A man's voice came through the line.
"Relax."
Ivy went cold.
She knew that voice.
"Alistair."
Ronan froze.
Alistair Blackwood chuckled softly through the phone.
"Good morning, Ivy."
"Get away from my brother."
"Your brother is perfectly safe."
Theo shouted in the background.
"Don't believe him!"
Ivy gripped the phone so hard her fingers hurt.
Ronan held out his hand.
She shook her head.
"What do you want?"
Alistair's voice remained calm.
"The brass key."
Ivy looked toward Eleanor's hidden safe.
"You already know it opened the safe."
"Not that safe."
Her breath caught.
"What does it open?"
"The reason Dorian is still alive."
Ivy stared at Ronan.
Alistair continued.
"Bring the key to St. Gabriel's cemetery at noon."
"Why there?"
"Because your mother has been keeping something for nine years."
Ivy's skin prickled.
"My mother is dead."
"Yes."
A pause.
May you like
"But dead women are very good at keeping secrets."
The line went dead.
