Chapter 3 - Shadows of the East Wing
By the fifth day at the Mercer estate, Audrey's hands were raw from cleaning products, and her feet throbbed with a persistent ache. But physical pain was nothing compared to the constant, grinding anxiety that gripped her chest every hour of the day.
The estate operated like a clockwork machine powered by fear. Every servant knew their precise path, every guard knew their post, and everything revolved around the silent, imposing presence of Jude Mercer. Though he remained largely invisible to the low-level staff, his presence was felt in every room.
Audrey learned the subtle signs of his movements. If the heavy double doors of the east wing were closed, it meant he was reviewing intelligence or conducting business. If the lights in the main gallery were dimmed, it meant he was moving through the house, and all staff were expected to vanish into the service corridors.
One afternoon, while Audrey was dusting the high oak shelves in the main library, Reggie Shaw walked in. His heavy boots made no sound on the thick oriental rug.
"Audrey," he said, stopping a few feet behind her.
Audrey spun around, nearly dropping her feather duster. She quickly lowered her eyes. "Yes, Mr. Shaw?"
"The boss needs the financial ledgers from the lower archive brought up to his private study room in ten minutes," Reggie said, his voice flat. "Dolores is busy with dinner prep. You carry them up."
Audrey's breath caught in her throat. "Up... to the east wing?"
Reggie’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You carry them to the table outside his study door. You lay them down, you knock once, and you leave immediately. You do not wait for an answer. You do not peek inside. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," she stammered.
"If you see him in the hallway, what do you do?" Reggie tested her, his tone cold.
"Step into the alcove, look at the floor, and wait until he passes," Audrey repeated precisely.
"Good," Reggie said. " don't make me regret giving you this task. The lower archive is at the end of the basement corridor. The ledger is bound in black leather with a silver crest."
Audrey hurried down to the basement. The air down here was cold and smelled of old paper, stone, and damp air. The basement corridor was long and dim, lined with reinforced steel doors. At the far end sat a dark door—the basement door nobody ever opened, rumored among the staff to lead to the estate's old detention cells. She shuddered, steering clear of it, and quickly found the archive room.
She located the heavy black ledger with the silver Mercer crest on a central table, picked it up, and held it to her chest like a shield.
Heart pounding, she climbed the central staircase and crossed the grand archway that led into the forbidden east wing. The atmosphere here was distinctly different from the rest of the house. The carpets were thicker, swallowing all sound, and the walls were lined with expensive, dark classical paintings depicting ancient battles and stormy seas. It was grand, impressive, and utterly suffocating.
She walked down the silent corridor until she saw the massive mahogany doors of Jude Mercer's main study. Her hands shook as she placed the heavy ledger on the small marble table set beside the entrance.
As she bent down to set it down, she heard a voice from inside the room. The door was slightly ajar, open no more than an inch.
"I don't care about their excuses, Reggie," Jude’s voice floated out. It was calm, devoid of anger, yet carried an icy weight that chilled Audrey to the bone. "If the shipment is short by tomorrow morning, seize their warehouse. If they resist, eliminate them. We don't negotiate with people who break agreements."
"Understood, Boss," Reggie's voice replied from inside. "And the girl's father? Tristan Wells?"
Audrey froze. Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard she thought it would burst. She pressed herself against the wall beside the door, her breath completely hitched.
"We tracked his trail to Boston," Reggie continued. "He’s trying to buy passage out of the country using the money he stole from our front company."
"Find him," Jude said quietly. "Bring him back here. I want him to see what his cowardice cost his family before we dispose of him."
Audrey placed a hand over her mouth to suppress a gasp. Tears sprang to her eyes, blurring her vision. Tristan hadn't just run from simple loan sharks; he had stolen directly from Jude Mercer. The debt wasn't just money—it was a death sentence. And she and Brinley were being used as collateral to keep Tristan running until they caught him.
"What about the woman and the child?" Reggie asked.
A long silence followed. Audrey held her breath, waiting for the execution order.
"They stay where they are," Jude said finally, his tone indifferent. "The woman works off what she can. The child stays out of my sight. If Tristan doesn't surface in a month, we sell off his remaining assets and clear the books."
"Yes, Boss."
Audrey didn't wait to hear another word. Remembering Reggie's strict instructions, she forced herself to raise her trembling hand, knocked firmly once on the wooden door frame, and then turned and fled down the hallway as fast as her quiet shoes could carry her.
She ran all the way back to the west wing, slipped into her room, and locked the door behind her. She collapsed against the heavy wooden panel, sliding down to the floor, her whole body shaking violently.
Brinley looked up from her small plastic toys in the corner, noticing her mother's distress. She picked up her one-eyed teddy bear, walked over, and sat down on the floor beside Audrey.
"Mommy sad?" Brinley asked softly, leaning her little head against Audrey's arm.
Audrey wrapped her arms around her daughter, pulling her impossibly close, burying her face in the child's small shoulder.
"No, baby," Audrey lied, her voice cracking with emotion. "Mommy is just... tired. Mommy loves you so much."
May you like
"I love you too," Brinley whispered, offering her bear. "Barnaby loves you too. He says don't cry."
Audrey looked at the little brown bear, its missing eye replaced by a small patch of worn fabric. In this dark, dangerous fortress filled with armed men and cold executioners, her daughter's innocent love was the only fragile thread holding her world together. She swore to herself right then that no matter what happened to Tristan, no matter what Jude Mercer demanded, she would protect Brinley at all costs.
