Chapter 3 - THE ESTATE ON THE HILL
Harper woke up in a room that looked like it belonged in a historic castle.
Vaulted ceilings. A roaring fireplace framed in carved dark oak. High arched windows revealing a sweeping view of a rain-swept pine forest and the distant Portland skyline.
She was lying in a massive king-sized bed wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets.
Her right leg was neatly encased in a pristine white plaster cast, propped up on three silk pillows.
The pain was completely gone, replaced by a dull, manageable ache.
A soft knock sounded on the heavy mahogany door.
Dr. Vance stepped inside, holding a silver tray with fresh tea, toast, and fruit.
"Good morning, Ms. Sloan," the doctor said kindly, setting the tray on the bedside table. "How is the leg feeling?"
"It... it doesn't hurt," Harper said, her voice raspy. She looked around the room in shock. "Where am I?"
"The Locke Estate in the West Hills," Dr. Vance explained, checking her vitals with a stethoscope. "You suffered a compound fracture of the tibia. I set it last night under local anesthesia. You'll need six weeks of rest, but you will walk normally again."
Harper looked at her hands. "What happened to Tyler?"
Dr. Vance's expression turned cold. "Mr. Maddox was escorted out of the city limits by Gideon's men. He was given a choice: leave Oregon forever, or enter the river in a concrete box. He chose the bus to Idaho."
Harper swallowed hard. A strange mix of relief and terror washed over her.
Tyler was gone. The monster who had terrorized her for two years was finally gone.
But she was now inside the fortress of a man far more dangerous.
The door opened again.
Gideon Locke walked in.
He was dressed in a dark grey suit, his hair neatly combed back, carrying a thick leather dossier under his arm.
Dr. Vance bowed his head slightly and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Gideon walked to the foot of the bed, his grey eyes sweeping over her.
"How are you feeling, Harper?" Gideon asked.
"Better," she whispered. "Thank you for the doctor."
"Dr. Vance is the best orthopedic surgeon in the state," Gideon said, stepping around the side of the bed and sitting in a velvet armchair. "He works exclusively for my family."
Harper sat up slightly, pulling the blanket to her chest. "Mr. Locke... I appreciate what you did last night. You saved me from Tyler. But I don't understand. What do you want from me? You mentioned last night that I owe you."
Gideon opened the leather dossier on his lap.
He pulled out three black-and-white photographs and laid them on the bed beside her hand.
Harper looked at them.
They were photos of an old, rusted iron key featuring a sunburst motif on the handle.
"That is the Sunburst Key," Gideon said calmly. "It opens Vault 404 beneath the Old Portland Maritime Bank. Inside that vault is a ledger that my uncle hid before I took control of the family."
Harper frowned. "What does that have to do with me?"
Gideon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his grey eyes piercing straight into her soul.
"Your father was Charles Sloan," Gideon stated. "The chief architect who designed the Maritime Bank vault system in 1988."
Harper went rigid. Her breath hitched.
"My father died ten years ago," Harper whispered.
"I know," Gideon replied. "And before he died, he left his private blueprint notebooks and master passkeys to his only daughter."
May you like
Gideon pointed a long finger at the photos.
"You don't owe me money, Harper," Gideon said, his voice dropping into a thrilling, dangerous command. "You owe me your father's blueprints. I need you to break into the Maritime vault with me."
