Chapter 5 - The Enemy Inside the Family
Maeve Blackwood’s plane landed safely at 9:18 that morning.
Nobody knew except six people.
Ronan changed the landing location at the last minute, sent a decoy convoy toward O’Hare, and had Maeve brought to Blackwood House through a private entrance.
She arrived furious.
Not frightened.
Furious.
“I was halfway through breakfast when four men moved me to another aircraft.”
Ronan hugged her.
That stopped her complaint.
Maeve was thirty-six, red-haired, sharp-eyed, and the only person I had ever seen interrupt Ronan without hesitation.
Then she noticed me.
“And who are you?”
“Ivy Mercer.”
“The maid?”
I stiffened.
Maeve immediately shook her head.
“That sounded terrible. Malcolm told me what happened.”
She crossed the room and hugged me.
I froze.
“Thank you for protecting the little boy.”
I had no idea what to do with a Blackwood hugging me.
So I awkwardly hugged her back.
She looked at Ronan.
“And your psychopath fiancée?”
“Not my fiancée.”
Maeve smiled.
“Good.”
Ronan had ended the engagement through his attorneys at six that morning.
Vivien responded by releasing a statement claiming she had been the victim of “a coordinated humiliation orchestrated by disgruntled household staff.”
By seven, gossip sites were repeating it.
By eight, photographs of me were circulating online.
Someone had found old pictures from my father’s restaurant.
People commented on my weight.
My clothing.
My job.
My face.
Some called me a liar.
Some accused me of seducing Ronan.
One headline read:
PLUS-SIZE MAID AT CENTER OF BLACKWOOD LOVE TRIANGLE.
I threw my phone onto the table.
“There is no love triangle!”
Maeve looked over my shoulder.
“Oh, this is garbage.”
“People believe garbage.”
Ronan entered.
“Stop reading it.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“No, it isn’t.”
He showed me his phone.
His headlines were worse.
MAFIA BILLIONAIRE TURNS ON FIANCÉE FOR MYSTERY MAID.
BLACKWOOD ENGAGEMENT COLLAPSES AFTER BALLROOM SCANDAL.
I looked at him.
“Do you care?”
“No.”
That answer was almost annoying in its simplicity.
“I do.”
“Then we’ll address facts.”
“How?”
“Evidence.”
By afternoon, evidence was becoming overwhelming.
The security footage captured the assault.
Oliver’s mother gave a statement.
Multiple staff members finally agreed to speak after Ronan guaranteed employment protection.
One server described Vivien ordering staff to delay calling security.
Another saw Daniel near the study.
A gardener had noticed Graham Pike entering through the conservatory entrance on three separate nights.
But the financial evidence mattered most.
I worked from Ronan’s library with two accountants from an outside firm.
By six, we identified shell corporations.
By eight, offshore accounts.
By ten, I found the life insurance policy.
I stared at the screen.
“Ronan.”
He came over.
“What?”
I turned the laptop.
A $100 million policy.
Insured: Ronan Blackwood.
Beneficiary: Blackwood Family Continuity Trust.
Nothing unusual.
Until we read the amendment.
Proposed beneficiary controller after marriage:
Vivien Hale Blackwood.
Ronan went completely still.
Maeve whispered, “Oh my God.”
The amendment had not yet been activated.
It required the marriage certificate.
The wedding was scheduled nine days away.
I scrolled farther.
There was correspondence between Graham Pike and an insurance broker.
One sentence made my skin crawl.
Timing of incapacity event should occur after beneficiary update but before annual trustee review.
Maeve stepped backward.
“They were planning to kill you.”
Nobody said anything for several seconds.
Ronan’s face became colder than I had ever seen.
Not angry.
Not shocked.
Something beyond both.
“Maybe not kill,” I said carefully.
Maeve looked at me.
“What else does ‘incapacity event’ mean?”
“They may have intended to create a medical condition severe enough to transfer control.”
Ronan looked at the correspondence.
“Either option ends with them controlling my assets.”
“Yes.”
His phone rang.
Security.
Daniel Cross had disappeared.
His apartment was empty.
Passport gone.
Graham Pike was still in Chicago but refusing questions through counsel.
Vivien had returned to her mother’s mansion in Lake Forest.
Police were now involved.
Federal investigators too, because of the interstate financial transfers.
But Ronan wanted something else.
The full network.
“If we arrest them too early,” he said, “we get three conspirators and twenty unanswered questions.”
Maeve frowned.
“You’re suggesting we wait?”
“I’m suggesting we let them believe they still have a path forward.”
I understood immediately.
“The wedding.”
Everyone turned toward me.
“Don’t cancel it publicly,” I said.
Ronan’s gaze sharpened.
“I already ended the engagement privately.”
“Vivien knows. The public doesn’t.”
Maeve stared at me.
“You want my brother to pretend he might take her back?”
“Not exactly.”
I opened the insurance correspondence.
“They need the wedding. Without marriage, most of their plan collapses. If they believe Ronan might still proceed, they have a reason to stay close.”
Ronan slowly smiled.
It was not a comforting smile.
“You want bait.”
“I want evidence.”
Maeve pointed at me.
“I like her.”
Ronan ignored that.
For the next four days, Blackwood House became a controlled stage.
Publicly, Ronan released only a short statement saying the engagement was “under private review.”
Privately, investigators followed every connection.
Vivien interpreted the silence as hope.
She sent flowers.
Emails.
Apologies.
Then threats.
Then apologies again.
Finally, she requested a private meeting.
Ronan agreed.
On one condition.
At Blackwood House.
The same ballroom.
When Vivien returned, she wore pale blue.
No diamonds.
Minimal makeup.
She wanted to look vulnerable.
I watched from the security room with Maeve and investigators.
Ronan stood alone beside the fireplace.
Vivien entered.
“You’ve ruined me.”
Ronan said nothing.
“My name is everywhere.”
“You attacked an employee.”
“She provoked me.”
“Did she forge my signature too?”
Vivien froze.
Just enough.
“What?”
Ronan placed a copy of the contract on the table.
Her face remained calm.
But her right hand tightened around her purse.
“I’ve never seen that.”
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“Because your attorney wrote it.”
“He isn’t my attorney.”
“Graham Pike.”
“I barely know him.”
Ronan took out another document.
The insurance amendment.
Vivien’s eyes widened.
There.
Fear.
Real fear.
“You think I did this?”
“I think someone expected to become very wealthy after marrying me.”
She started crying.
For a moment, I almost believed her.
That was her talent.
She could create emotion like an actress turning on stage lights.
“You told me you loved me.”
Ronan’s expression did not change.
“I did.”
The words shocked me.
Even Maeve turned toward the monitor.
Vivien stepped closer.
“Then believe me.”
“I loved the person you pretended to be.”
Her face hardened.
There she was.
The real Vivien.
“You think your maid understands you better?”
“This isn’t about Ivy.”
“It’s always about women like Ivy.”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
Vivien laughed bitterly.
“People like her resent people like us.”
Us.
Even while begging Ronan to believe her, she could not resist separating the world into categories.
Ronan stepped closer.
“No, Vivien. People like you need people beneath you so you can pretend you’re standing taller.”
Her face twisted.
“I made you respectable.”
Maeve whispered beside me, “Oh, she should not have said that.”
Ronan remained calm.
“Leave.”
“You’ll come back.”
“No.”
“You always do.”
Ronan walked to the door and opened it.
Vivien stood motionless.
Then she made her mistake.
“Daniel warned me you could become stubborn when emotionally compromised.”
Ronan looked at her.
She realized immediately what she had said.
Too late.
He had never mentioned Daniel.
She had just connected herself to him.
Vivien rushed out.
Investigators had what they needed.
But as her car left the estate, security noticed another vehicle following.
Not police.
Not media.
A black SUV registered to a company we had already flagged.
The same company that had received more than eight hundred thousand dollars in fraudulent Blackwood vendor payments.
Ronan stared at the tracking screen.
“Follow it.”
Two hours later, the SUV stopped at an abandoned warehouse near the river.
Investigators surrounded the building.
Inside, they found Daniel Cross.
Alive.
And terrified.
He surrendered almost immediately.
But before they took him away, he said something that changed the case again.
“You’re chasing the wrong person.”
An investigator asked, “Who is the right one?”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Vivien thinks this was her plan.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“No.”
He looked directly into the camera recording the arrest.
“She was only supposed to marry him.”
“Who designed the rest?”
Daniel’s smile disappeared.
May you like
“Someone who’s been waiting twenty-three years to destroy the Blackwoods.”
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