Chapter 4 - The Room Behind the StudySienna returned to the mansion after dark.
Not to reconcile.
To collect Nolan’s things.
Rebecca insisted she bring security.
Sienna refused uniformed guards but agreed to have two private security officers remain outside.
Malcolm opened the front door.
“You brought witnesses?”
“I brought people who make me feel safe.”
His face tightened.
“This is your home.”
“Not tonight.”
Nolan clung to Sienna’s neck.
The instant he saw the dining room, his body stiffened.
“No bowl.”
Sienna stopped.
Her heart broke.
“No bowl, sweetheart.”
“No Grandpa.”
“No Grandpa.”
Walter was nowhere visible.
Malcolm lowered his voice.
“He left.”
“Good.”
“Sienna, can we talk?”
“No.”
“Five minutes.”
“No.”
“Please.”
The word sounded foreign coming from him.
Sienna carried Nolan upstairs.
She packed clothes, pajamas, medication, his stuffed fox, and the little wooden train he slept with.
Malcolm followed at a distance.
“I’m sorry I hit you.”
Sienna continued packing.
“I said I’m sorry.”
“You’re apologizing because the bank called.”
“That’s unfair.”
She turned.
“You had four hours between hitting me and the bank calling.”
Malcolm looked away.
“I was ashamed.”
“No. You were comfortable.”
He flinched.
“That’s not true.”
“You chose your father before you even asked why Nolan was crying.”
“I saw you hit him.”
“And you saw porridge all over a terrified three-year-old.”
Malcolm’s face softened.
“Sienna…”
“No.”
She zipped the suitcase.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Use my name like you’re the wounded person.”
Nolan pressed his face against her shoulder.
Malcolm lowered his voice.
“I love him.”
Sienna stared at him.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you let Walter spend three years treating him like a contaminant?”
“He’s difficult.”
“He’s cruel.”
“He’s my father.”
“And Nolan trusted you.”
The words landed.
Malcolm looked toward the child.
“Nolan.”
Nolan hid his face.
Malcolm stopped reaching.
Sienna carried the suitcase into the hallway.
As she passed Walter’s study, something caught her attention.
A drawer stood slightly open.
She stopped.
Malcolm noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She kept walking.
But she had seen a familiar logo on a folder inside.
Mercer Ridge.
Sienna handed Nolan to the security officer waiting near the staircase.
“Stay right here.”
Malcolm followed her.
“What are you doing?”
She entered Walter’s study.
“Sienna.”
She opened the drawer.
Inside were copies of Mercer Ridge investment committee materials.
Confidential ones.
Her stomach dropped.
“How did he get these?”
Malcolm’s face changed.
“Get what?”
“These.”
She held up a packet.
“No outside director has this.”
“I don’t know.”
“These are internal.”
“Sienna—”
She pulled out another folder.
Then another.
Capital schedules.
Bank correspondence.
Private valuations.
Documents from three different Mercer portfolio companies.
Some were nearly two years old.
Walter had been collecting them.
“Why does your father have confidential Mercer records?”
Malcolm moved closer.
“He probably printed things you emailed me.”
“I never emailed you these.”
“He could have received them from advisers.”
“Which advisers?”
“I don’t know.”
Sienna opened another drawer.
Locked.
She looked at Malcolm.
“Key.”
“What?”
“Give me the key.”
“It’s Dad’s desk.”
“Those are my company’s records.”
Malcolm crossed his arms.
“You can’t search his office.”
Sienna laughed once.
“My confidential documents are sitting in his drawer.”
“Call Rebecca.”
“I will.”
She turned toward the built-in bookshelves.
Something didn’t look right.
One section was slightly misaligned.
Walter loved hidden architectural features. He had once bragged that the mansion still had Prohibition-era storage compartments.
Sienna pressed the panel.
Nothing.
Then she noticed a brass latch beneath the shelf.
She pulled it.
The section opened several inches.
Malcolm went pale.
“What is that?”
“You tell me.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
She pushed the panel farther.
Behind it was a narrow storage room.
Not large.
But organized.
Boxes.
Files.
An old computer.
A small document safe.
And on the nearest shelf, clearly labeled:
MERCER.
Sienna turned toward Malcolm.
His shock looked genuine.
For once.
“What did your father do?”
Malcolm whispered.
“I don’t know.”
Footsteps sounded behind them.
Slow.
Measured.
Walter appeared in the doorway.
His eyes moved from Sienna to the open panel.
Then to Malcolm.
The old man’s face lost all color.
Sienna held up one of the files.
“What is this?”
Walter said nothing.
“What have you been stealing from my company?”
Walter’s expression hardened.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
Sienna almost smiled.
“That is not the answer you want to give me.”
Walter walked forward.
Malcolm stepped between them.
“Dad, what’s in the room?”
Walter ignored him.
“Sienna, leave.”
“No.”
“This is my house.”
She looked around.
Then back at him.
“Is it?”
Walter froze.
That reaction told her something.
Sienna’s voice became quieter.
“Whose house is this, Walter?”
He said nothing.
She looked at the files.
Then the safe.
Then the hidden room.
For the first time, she understood that the fifteen missing million dollars might not be the largest secret in the mansion.
Walter finally spoke.
“You made one mistake today.”
Sienna waited.
“You assumed the money was the only thing holding this family together.”
His eyes shifted toward Nolan at the end of the hallway.
“It isn’t.”
Sienna felt a chill.
“What does that mean?”
May you like
Walter smiled.
“You’ll find out when you try to take it apart.”
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