Chapter 8 - The Shadow of Debt
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Nathaniel didn't return the morphine to his mother’s room immediately. He locked it in the massive steel safe in his study, dismissing the security guard and leaving Erin standing nervously by the door.
“Sit down, Erin,” Nathaniel said, pointing to one of the leather armchairs opposite his desk.
Erin slowly lowered herself into the chair. The adrenaline was crashing, leaving her exhausted and terrified. “Mr. Whitmore, I swear to you, I didn't—”
“I know you didn't,” Nathaniel interrupted, rubbing his temples. He looked incredibly weary, the polished armor of his billionaire persona cracking to reveal the exhausted man beneath. “I knew it the second Mrs. Kesler said Caroline suggested the search. Caroline doesn't know the names of the staff, let alone where their lockers are. She had to ask someone.”
He walked around the desk and opened the heavy leather ledger Erin had knocked over the day before.
“You saw this file,” Nathaniel stated. It wasn't a question.
“I only saw the first page,” Erin whispered, staring at her hands.
“Then you saw the debts,” Nathaniel continued, his voice devoid of emotion. “Caroline’s family is completely bankrupt. They have been living on credit and reputation for five years. Three months ago, her father borrowed four million dollars from a private syndicate in South Boston to cover a bad real estate bet.”
Erin’s breath hitched. A syndicate. The mob.
“If she doesn't marry me on Friday,” Nathaniel said, looking out the dark window, “the people who hold her father’s debt will not just foreclose on her childhood home. They will break his legs, and then they will come for her. This wedding is a transaction to save her life.”
“Why are you marrying her if you know this?” Erin asked, the question slipping out before she could censor herself.
Nathaniel turned back to her, a bitter, cynical smile touching his lips.
“Because my board of directors prefers a stable CEO with a society wife,” Nathaniel replied. “And because, until yesterday, I believed Caroline was simply greedy. Greed is predictable. Greed can be managed with a strict prenuptial agreement and an allowance.”
He picked up the amber bottle of morphine from his desk.
“But cruelty,” Nathaniel whispered, his eyes darkening. “Cruelty is a wild card. If she is willing to steal my dying mother’s medication to frame a maid, there is no line she won't cross to protect her investment.”
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He looked at Erin, the intense focus in his gaze making her skin flush.
“You are a threat to her, Erin,” Nathaniel said softly. “Because you are the only person in this house who sees her exactly for what she is. And she knows I see you.”
