Chapter 2
Julian stayed in the security room long after Abigail disappeared from the camera.
The money still sat on his dresser.
Untouched.
Exactly where he had left it.
He should have felt satisfied.
His test had worked.
He had learned something about an employee.
That was the point.
But satisfaction never came.
Instead, Julian felt sick.
He replayed the footage.
Not the moment Abigail reached toward the money.
The moment she pulled away.
Again.
Then again.
He watched her lips move.
“I’m desperate. I’m not a thief.”
Julian paused the video.
Those words hit harder the second time.
He had spent years telling himself that people were dishonest by nature.
That loyalty lasted only until a better offer appeared.
That kindness was usually strategy wearing a smile.
Abigail had just walked through the center of that belief and cracked it open.
A knock sounded behind him.
“Mr. Cross?”
Julian shut off the monitor.
Elena Morales, the estate manager, stood at the door.
She had worked for him for twelve years and was one of the few people who never seemed intimidated by his silence.
“Abigail finished the east wing,” Elena said. “She asked whether she could stay an extra four hours tonight.”
Julian looked at her.
“Why?”
Elena hesitated.
“You would have to ask her.”
“I’m asking you.”
“And I’m telling you that her personal life is not part of her employment contract.”
Julian almost smiled.
Almost.
“Elena.”
She sighed.
“Her father is sick. Her brother is in college. She has been taking every extra shift she can get.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“How sick?”
“I don’t know.”
That was a lie.
Julian could tell.
Elena knew.
She simply did not believe he had the right to know.
For some reason, that bothered him.
Not because he felt entitled to Abigail’s private information.
Because he realized how little he knew about the people who entered his home every day.
He knew their salaries.
Their background-check results.
Their employment histories.
He knew whether they had ever been arrested.
He knew their credit scores if they worked close enough to his financial records.
But he did not know who they loved.
Who they were afraid of losing.
Why they cried alone in empty bedrooms.
Julian stood.
“Give her the additional hours.”
Elena nodded.
“And raise her hourly rate.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“By how much?”
“Double it.”
Elena stared at him.
“That won’t look suspicious at all.”
Julian frowned.
“Then promote her.”
“To what?”
He had no answer.
Elena crossed her arms.
“You cannot invent a position because you feel guilty.”
His head snapped toward her.
“I don’t feel guilty.”
“Of course not.”
She turned to leave.
“Elena.”
She stopped.
Julian looked at the dark monitor.
“Did she ask anyone for money?”
“No.”
“An advance?”
Elena’s expression changed.
“Three weeks ago.”
Something tightened in his chest.
“What happened?”
“Payroll denied it.”
“Why?”
“Company policy.”
Julian almost laughed at the absurdity.
His company.
His policy.
His employee.
And he had put three hundred thousand dollars in front of her like bait while she was being denied a small advance from a payroll department carrying his name.
“How much did she ask for?”
Elena looked uncomfortable.
“Eight thousand.”
Eight thousand dollars.
Julian had spent more than that on dinner for investors who bored him.
He looked away.
“Have payroll approve it.”
“She withdrew the request.”
“Why?”
“Because she said she would figure something else out.”
Of course she had.
Julian dismissed Elena and walked toward his bedroom.
When he entered, the money greeted him like an accusation.
He began putting the stacks back into the case.
Halfway through, his phone buzzed.
His mother.
Julian ignored it.
It rang again.
Then a third time.
He finally answered.
“What?”
Vivian Cross’s voice came through sharp and elegant.
“Charming as always.”
“I’m working.”
“You are hiding.”
“From what?”
“Thursday dinner.”
Julian checked the time.
He had forgotten.
His mother still insisted on weekly family dinners even though almost every Cross family dinner ended with someone furious.
“I’m not coming.”
“You said that last week.”
“And I meant it.”
“Adrian will be there.”
Julian’s hand stopped over the money.
His uncle.
Board chairman of Cross Global.
A man who could smile while cutting someone’s career in half.
“Then I definitely won’t be there.”
Vivian lowered her voice.
“He wants to discuss the medical division.”
“I can discuss it Monday.”
“He specifically asked for you.”
That made Julian suspicious.
Adrian never specifically asked for anyone unless he wanted something.
“I’ll think about it.”
“You always say that.”
“And you always call anyway.”
He ended the call.
When Julian returned downstairs, he heard voices near the service entrance.
Abigail.
She stood beside Elena, tying her hair back before beginning another shift.
Julian slowed without meaning to.
“I can cover Saturday too,” Abigail said.
“You already worked seventy hours last week,” Elena replied.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re exhausted.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Her voice broke on the last word.
She turned away quickly.
Julian should have kept walking.
Instead, he stopped.
Abigail noticed him.
Instantly, she straightened.
“Mr. Cross.”
“Abigail.”
He realized he had never spoken her name aloud before.
She looked surprised that he knew it.
That made the shame worse.
“I was told you requested extra hours.”
Her face hardened slightly.
“I didn’t realize that required your approval.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then I should get back to work.”
She turned.
“Wait.”
Abigail looked back.
Julian had negotiated billion-dollar acquisitions with less discomfort.
“I’m restructuring compensation for the household staff.”
She blinked.
“At seven at night?”
He almost admired the question.
“Beginning immediately, overtime rates will increase.”
“For everyone?”
Julian hesitated.
If he said no, she would know.
“For everyone.”
Abigail studied him.
Then nodded.
“Good. Elena deserves it.”
Not herself.
Elena.
Again.
Julian watched her walk away.
He hated how much the small comment affected him.
That night, he went to his mother’s dinner after all.
The Cross family estate stood twenty minutes away, a stone mansion full of beautiful things and ugly memories.
Vivian greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.
“You look tired.”
“You look disappointed that I came.”
“I’m shocked. There’s a difference.”
His uncle Adrian sat in the dining room with a glass of bourbon.
Sixty-two.
Silver hair.
Tailored suit.
Eyes that missed nothing.
“There he is,” Adrian said. “The reluctant king.”
Julian took the chair across from him.
“I prefer CEO.”
“Kings last longer.”
“So do dictators.”
Vivian closed her eyes.
“Can we survive appetizers before starting?”
Dinner began badly and got worse.
Adrian wanted Cross Global to acquire a struggling medical technology company.
Julian opposed the deal.
The financials were weak.
The debt was hidden behind subsidiaries.
Adrian pushed anyway.
“You’ve become cautious,” Adrian said.
“I’ve become competent.”
“You inherited competence.”
Julian’s fork stopped.
The room went quiet.
His father had been dead eleven years.
Yet every family argument somehow found its way back to him.
Richard Cross.
Founder.
Billionaire.
Public legend.
Private tyrant.
Julian had spent half his adult life trying to become powerful enough that his father’s ghost could no longer control him.
He had failed.
Vivian changed the subject.
“How is the new household staff?”
Julian looked at her.
“What?”
“You replaced two cleaners last month.”
Adrian laughed.
“Julian doesn’t hire employees. He interrogates them.”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“Excuse me?”
His uncle took a drink.
“Still leaving cash around to test the help?”
Vivian looked embarrassed.
“Adrian.”
“What? Richard used to do the same thing.”
Julian stared at him.
“My father did that?”
Adrian smiled.
“Where do you think you learned it?”
Julian suddenly had no appetite.
He had always believed the tests were his own invention.
His own defense against betrayal.
Now he saw something he hated.
He had become more like his father than he knew.
Adrian leaned back.
“People disappoint you, Julian. Better to learn early.”
Julian thought of Abigail.
Not everyone.
The words almost left his mouth.
He stopped them.
Later, as Julian was leaving, his mother followed him into the foyer.
“You’re angry.”
“I’m tired.”
“You’re always tired when you don’t want to tell the truth.”
He reached for his coat.
Vivian lowered her voice.
“You need to stop looking for betrayal everywhere.”
Julian gave a humorless laugh.
“That advice would have been useful when I was twelve.”
Pain moved across her face.
He immediately regretted it.
But not enough to apologize.
Before he could leave, his phone rang.
Elena.
He answered.
“What happened?”
Her voice was tense.
“It’s Abigail.”
Julian’s chest tightened.
“What about her?”
“She got a call while she was working.”
Silence.
Then Elena said, “Her father collapsed.”
Julian was already walking toward the door.
“Which hospital?”
“St. Matthew’s.”
His mother called after him.
“Julian?”
He did not answer.
He drove himself.
He could not have explained why.
Abigail was an employee.
Nothing more.
He had hundreds of employees with sick parents.
Thousands.
But he could still see her hand trembling over that money.
Still hear the words.
I’m desperate.
I’m not a thief.
At the hospital, he found Elena in the emergency waiting room.
Abigail sat in a chair ten feet away.
Her face was buried in her hands.
A young man sat beside her.
Her brother, Julian assumed.
Elena stood.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to help.”
“With what?”
Julian looked toward Abigail.
“I don’t know yet.”
That answer seemed to surprise Elena.
A doctor appeared.
“Family of Daniel Hayes?”
Abigail jumped to her feet.
“Yes.”
Julian froze.
Hayes.
The name struck something buried deep in his memory.
Daniel Hayes.
He had heard it before.
The doctor spoke quietly with Abigail and her brother.
Julian barely heard the words.
Cardiac complications.
Immediate procedure.
Insurance limitations.
Authorization.
But Julian’s mind was somewhere else.
Daniel Hayes.
Then he remembered.
An old Cross Global scandal.
A company accountant accused of stealing nearly two million dollars.
Fired.
Disgraced.
Nearly prosecuted.
The case had disappeared before trial.
Julian had been twenty-one.
His father had called the man a parasite.
A thief.
A traitor.
Daniel Hayes.
Julian looked at Abigail again.
Her last name had never mattered to him before.
Now it mattered too much.
He turned to Elena.
“What is Abigail’s last name?”
Elena frowned.
“You know it.”
“Say it.”
“Hayes.”
The hospital corridor seemed to narrow.
Julian stared through the glass doors as Abigail reached for her brother’s hand.
Her father was Daniel Hayes.
The man Julian’s father had publicly destroyed.
And suddenly Abigail’s refusal to take the money felt like more than honesty.
It felt like a question Julian was no longer sure he wanted answered.
Because if Daniel Hayes had really been a thief—
why had he raised a daughter who could walk away from three hundred thousand dollars?
May you like
And if Daniel Hayes had not been a thief—
then someone in Julian’s family had lied.
