Chapter 2 - The Missing Diamond
The main reception hall was vast, cold, and lined with tall arched windows that let in a dull, grey morning light. High above, crystal chandeliers hung shrouded in dust cover mesh, casting long, fractured shadows across the polished black-and-white marble floor.
Standing in a neat, rigid line near the foot of the grand double staircase were twelve staff members.
Nora, the head housekeeper, stood at the left end, her hands clasped tightly over her white apron, her knuckles white. Beside her was Milo, the young groundskeeper, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle twitched beneath his ear. Near the center was seventeen-year-old Ivy, her red rimmed eyes fixed squarely on her black leather work shoes, her shoulders hunched as if trying to make her thin frame vanish into the wall.
And at the far right end stood Elena Marsh.
She had her hands folded casually behind her back. She wore her standard grey cotton uniform, her hair pinned up into a neat, practical bun at the nape of her neck. She looked less like a suspect in a grand theft investigation and more like a woman waiting for a delayed bus.
Corinne Wade paced slowly in front of them.
She was dressed impeccably in a fitted ivory silk blouse and a dark tailored pencil skirt. Her high heels clicked against the marble with a sharp, rhythmic rhythm that echoed through the vaulted ceiling like the ticking of a countdown clock. Between her long, perfectly manicured fingers, she twirled a slender silver fountain pen.
"A three-carat emerald-cut canary diamond ring," Corinne said, her voice smooth, soft, and carrying effortlessly across the cavernous room. "A piece from the Ashworth family vault, given to me by Damon himself on the night of our engagement. I left it on the ring dish in my dressing room at eight o'clock last night. By nine o'clock, when I went to apply my night cream, the dish was empty."
She stopped pacing. She turned her body slowly, letting her narrow, dark eyes sweep across the faces of the terrified staff.
"Now, as you all know, I am a reasonable woman," Corinne continued, her lips curving into a thin, predatory smile. "I understand that temptation exists. I understand that people who earn hourly wages might look at something worth three hundred thousand dollars and suffer a moment of weakness. Therefore, I am offering a single opportunity for grace."
She tapped the silver pen against her palm.
Click. Click. Click.
"If the person who took it steps forward right now, I will not call the precinct," Corinne murmured. "I will simply have Mr. Vance escort you off the property with your final check. You will be blacklisted from every private estate in the state, of course, but you will not spend the next ten years in a state penitentiary."
Silence swallowed the room. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Ivy let out a small, involuntary whimpering noise, pressing her chin harder against her collarbone.
Corinne’s smile widened, though her eyes remained completely dead. "No one? How disappointing. In that case, we shall proceed with room searches. And we will begin with the staff quarters in the east wing."
Nora cleared her throat nervously, taking a small, hesitant step forward. "Miss Wade... if I may... the staff quarters were locked from midnight until six this morning, as per protocol. I keep the master key on my belt—"
"I don't recall asking for your input, Nora," Corinne cut her off without looking at her. "Mr. Vance, if you would."
From the shadow of the doorway leading to the courtyard, a heavy-set man in a dark tactical vest stepped forward. Vance was head of estate security—a man whose career in private security was built entirely on turning a blind eye to Corinne’s cruelty in exchange for a generous annual bonus drawn from the Ashworth account.
Vance carried a black canvas bag over his shoulder.
He didn't head toward the east wing stairs. Instead, he walked directly toward Elena Marsh.
"Wait a moment," Elena said, her voice calm, clear, and unhurried as Vance stopped two feet in front of her.
Corinne tilted her head, watching her like an insect beneath a glass slide. "Do you have something to say, Elena?"
"I do," Elena replied, bringing her hands from behind her back. "If you are searching staff quarters, Mr. Vance should begin with the head housekeeper’s office or the laundry room. But he came straight to me. Which means you aren't searching for a lost ring, Miss Wade. You've already planted it."
A collective, audible gasp rippled through the line of staff.
Milo’s eyes went wide. Nora covered her mouth with both hands.
Corinne’s smile vanished instantly, replaced by a dark, dangerous stillness. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me," Elena said smoothly, looking Corinne dead in the eye. "You've been looking for an excuse to fire me since Tuesday morning when I picked up the tea tray you knocked over. You tried giving me sixteen-hour shifts. You tried assigning me to clean the roof gutters in the rain. When that didn't work, you decided to use the oldest trick in the book."
Elena pointed a finger toward Vance’s black canvas bag.
"Go ahead, Vance," Elena said to the security guard. "Reach into the side pocket of my grey laundry hamper in Room 104. That’s where you put it when you conducted your 'routine security sweep' at six-thirty this morning while I was down in the kitchen preparing the breakfast trays."
Vance froze. His jaw slackened slightly, his hand hovering over his canvas bag. He looked frantically toward Corinne for instruction.
Corinne’s neck turned red beneath her silk collar. Her breathing became shallow and fast. "Search her room!" she hissed through her teeth. "Search her room right now! And when you find that ring in her possession, call the county police and have her arrested for grand larceny!"
"There’s no need to walk all the way to Room 104, Mr. Vance," a deep, quiet baritone voice echoed from the top of the grand staircase.
Everyone in the hall turned their heads simultaneously.
Damon Ashworth stood on the landing, clad in a charcoal-grey suit, holding a silver pocket watch in his left hand. His dark eyes were cold, unreadable, and fixed entirely on his fiancée.
"Damon!" Corinne’s voice transformed instantly, dropping three octaves into a sweet, tremulous tone. She took three fast steps toward the stairs. "Darling, I’m so sorry this noise woke you. One of the new maids has stolen my engagement ring, and—"
"The canary diamond isn't in Room 104, Corinne," Damon interrupted softly as he descended the marble stairs, his leather shoes making almost no sound at all. "Nor was it stolen."
He reached into his suit jacket pocket, pulled out a small velvet box, and opened it.
The large, yellow emerald-cut diamond caught the light of the high windows, flashing brilliantly against the velvet interior.
Corinne stopped dead in her tracks. Her face drained of all color until she looked like a marble statue herself. "Damon... where... where did you find that?"
"It was in the glove compartment of Mr. Vance’s security vehicle," Damon said, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. He didn't look at Vance, nor did he look at the trembling staff. He stared directly at Corinne. "It appears Mr. Vance dropped his keys in my private study last night while delivering the gate logs. I used his spare set to check his car this morning."
A heavy, suffocating weight fell over the reception hall.
Vance took two slow steps backward, his face sweating profusely.
Damon closed the velvet box with a sharp snap.
"Mr. Vance," Damon said quietly. "You have ten minutes to clear your belongings from the guardhouse. If you are still on Ashworth grounds at seven-fifteen, my personal security team will remove you by force."
Vance didn't argue. He turned on his heel and practically ran out the side exit, letting the heavy oak door slam shut behind him.
Damon turned his gaze slowly toward Elena Marsh.
Elena did not drop her eyes. She stood her ground, her expression neutral, her posture straight.
"Miss Marsh," Damon said softly. "It appears you have been falsely accused."
"It appears so, Mr. Ashworth," Elena replied politely. "May we get back to work now? The linens won't wash themselves."
Damon stared at her for three long seconds. For the first time in two years, the faint outline of a genuine, dark smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
May you like
"Dismissed," Damon said to the staff.
As the staff scrambled away toward the back corridors, Corinne stood alone in the center of the vast marble hall, her fists clenched so tightly her silver pen snapped clean in half.
