Chapter 2 - THE GIRL WHO CAME FOR THE TRUTH
Eight years earlier, my father had been a bookkeeper.
Not for a bank.
Not for an accounting firm.
For Victor Cross.
He kept records for businesses that officially belonged to shipping companies, construction firms, and private investment groups.
But he also kept a second set of books.
The kind that could send powerful men to prison.
I was sixteen when he came home one night with blood on his sleeve.
He told me to pack a bag.
I thought we were going on vacation.
Instead, he drove me to my aunt's apartment in Queens.
Before leaving, he placed a silver key around my neck.
“Elena, listen carefully.”
I remembered his hands shaking.
“If anything happens to me, don't trust Victor Cross.”
I stared at him.
“Papa, what's happening?”
He kissed my forehead.
“Promise me.”
I promised.
The next morning, my father was gone.
Police found his car abandoned near the waterfront.
His body was never recovered.
For years, I believed he might still be alive.
Then Margaret Cross contacted me.
She'd discovered an old letter my father had written to Julian's mother.
In it, he warned that Victor was secretly financing a faction inside the Cross organization.
Margaret believed my father had been killed for trying to expose him.
She also believed Victor was preparing to murder Julian.
I didn't want to become involved.
I was working two jobs.
Cleaning hotel rooms during the day.
Serving tables at night.
My mother had died when I was nineteen, leaving me alone.
I had no money.
No influence.
No protection.
But Margaret offered me a way inside Julian's mansion.
A forged reference.
A position as a personal maid.
And a chance to find evidence that could finally explain my father's death.
I accepted.
I thought I would be cleaning rooms and listening to conversations.
Instead, I was assigned to care for a man who supposedly couldn't walk.
Julian Cross.
The Black Devil.
And somewhere between helping him button his shirts and listening to him talk about the nightmares he claimed to have after the accident, I began forgetting why I'd entered his house.
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That was my first mistake.
My second was falling in love with him.
