Chapter 5 - MRS. PRESCOTT CAME BACK WITH A CHECK
Marin was peeling apples with Edith when Sylvio entered.
“Someone is asking for you.”
“Who?”
“Mrs. Prescott.”
The knife stopped.
“No.”
Sylvio nodded.
“I’ll send her away.”
Edith suddenly said:
“Cowards like doors.”
Marin stared.
“What?”
The old woman returned to her apple slices.
No explanation.
Some days Edith spoke poetry by accident.
Marin thought for a moment.
Then:
“I’ll see her.”
Mrs. Prescott waited in the front salon.
She looked uncomfortable for the first time Marin had ever seen.
No emerald bracelet.
No superiority.
An envelope.
“Marin.”
“Mrs. Prescott.”
“I heard you were working here.”
Of course she had.
The North Shore knew everything eventually.
Then Mrs. Prescott looked around.
“Quite an upgrade.”
Marin’s expression hardened.
“I’m working.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you here?”
The woman held out the envelope.
Inside was a cashier’s check.
Three weeks of unpaid wages.
Plus severance.
Plus the cost of Marin’s destroyed uniform.
Marin stared.
“What is this?”
“What I owe you.”
“Why now?”
Mrs. Prescott looked toward the doorway.
Cassius was not there.
But perhaps she imagined him everywhere.
Then:
“My daughter found the bracelet.”
Marin froze.
“What?”
“Before the accusation.”
There.
“She borrowed it for photographs.”
“She put it back in the wrong drawer.”
“You knew?”
Mrs. Prescott looked down.
“Not at first.”
“When did you know?”
“The next morning.”
Marin’s voice became quiet.
“You fired me at night.”
“Yes.”
“You found out the next morning.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me spend weeks unable to find work because everyone thought I was a thief.”
Mrs. Prescott swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Then the truth.
“Because firing you solved another problem.”
Marin felt cold.
“What problem?”
“I owed you overtime.”
Of course.
“And?”
“You had asked about payroll records.”
Marin remembered.
Several household employees had complained about unpaid overtime.
Marin helped write down hours because she had once managed scheduling at a hotel.
Mrs. Prescott thought Marin might encourage others to demand payment.
So she used the bracelet.
Simple.
Ugly.
No grand conspiracy.
Just money and class.
“I’m sorry.”
Marin stared at the check.
Then:
“Are you paying the other employees?”
Mrs. Prescott stiffened.
“That has nothing to do with—”
“It has everything to do with it.”
Silence.
Marin slid the check back.
“I’ll take what you owe me after my attorney reviews it.”
The woman looked stunned.
“Attorney?”
“Yes.”
Rachel Kim had entered Marin’s life through the household workers’ clinic after Sylvio suggested she ask for advice.
Marin continued:
“And if you want me to accept an apology, correct the story.”
“What?”
“You told people I stole.”
“Tell the same people I didn’t.”
Mrs. Prescott’s face hardened.
“That would be humiliating.”
Marin smiled.
“Yes.”
She left without taking the check.
Cassius was waiting in the hall.
“You listened.”
“Yes.”
“Rude.”
“My house.”
“Still rude.”
He smiled.
Then:
“You handled that well.”
“I was shaking.”
“I know.”
Marin looked down at her hands.
He was right.
Then Cassius said:
“You did not need me.”
It was not disappointment.
It sounded almost like pride.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“But it helped knowing you were outside.”
He held her gaze.
That was the first truly intimate moment between them.
Not touch.
Not romance.
Safety.
Mrs. Prescott eventually corrected the accusation in writing.
Paid Marin.
Paid two other former workers after wage claims were reviewed.
Marin did not destroy her.
She made her repair what evidence supported.
That felt better.
Then Laya’s surgery date arrived.
Cassius asked only:
“Do you need time off?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Take what you need.”
Paid.
Per contract.
No favor.
Laya survived the operation.
Not easily.
The first night was frightening.
Then better.
After four days, she woke properly and asked Marin:
“Is the scary wheelchair man real?”
Marin froze.
“What?”
“You talk about him when you think I’m asleep.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
“No.”
Laya smiled weakly.
“You like him.”
Marin nearly dropped the water cup.
“He’s my employer.”
“Mmm.”
Heart surgery apparently did not reduce younger-sister cruelty.
Then Cassius visited.
He brought flowers.
Not twenty dozen roses.
One small arrangement because hospital rooms are crowded.
Good.
Laya looked at him.
Then Marin.
Then Cassius.
“Oh.”
Marin wanted the floor to open.
Cassius raised an eyebrow.
“Oh what?”
“Nothing.”
Laya smiled.
Cassius smiled back.
Dangerous alliance formed immediately.
But outside Laya’s room, Sylvio was waiting.
His face destroyed the moment.
“Cassius.”
“What?”
“Dorian is gone.”
Cassius became still.
“Gone where?”
“We don’t know.”
“And the audit?”
Sylvio handed him a folder.
“Before he left, he transferred twelve million dollars out of two holding-company accounts.”
Marin stared.
Cassius did not.
He simply opened the folder.
Then said:
“Call counsel.”
Not gunmen.
Not revenge.
Counsel.
Investigators.
Banks.
Asset freezes where legally available.
For the first time, Marin understood why Cassius Vain was truly feared.
Not because he acted fastest.
Because when everyone else panicked—
he became colder.
May you like
And more precise.
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