Chapter 5 - The Voice from the Past
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Marcus handed me the heavy satellite phone. The screen was glowing with an active call duration. I stared at the device for a long second, my hands trembling. The last time I had heard Arthur Sterling's voice, it was three years ago, whispering promises in the dark that I had spent the last eight months believing were lies.
I pressed the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"Sarah."
His voice hit me like a physical blow. It was deeper than I remembered, rough with an emotion I couldn't quite identify. It wasn't the arrogant tone of a billionaire; it was the raw, desperate sound of a man who had been fighting a ghost.
"Arthur," I choked out, a tear finally escaping and tracing a hot path down my cold cheek.
"Are you safe?" Arthur demanded instantly. "Is my daughter safe? Marcus said the apartment is... unacceptable."
"We are safe," I replied, wrapping my arms around myself. "But we are cold. And we are poor, Arthur. I haven't seen a single dime of the money you sent. My mother stole all of it."
I heard a sudden, violent crash over the line, like a heavy glass throwing against a marble wall. The sound of shattering crystal echoed through the speaker.
"She forged the restraining orders," Arthur growled, his voice vibrating with a terrifying, apocalyptic rage. "She told my lawyers that if I ever tried to contact you or Lily directly, you would flee the country and I would never see my child. She held you hostage financially, and I paid her ransom every month just to ensure you had what you needed."
"She told me you denied the paternity," I wept, the full weight of my mother's deception crushing my chest. "She showed me legal papers signed by you. She said you called Lily a mistake."
"I will personally tear her apart for that," Arthur promised, his voice turning to absolute ice. "Listen to me very carefully, Sarah. You are not spending another night in that apartment. Marcus is going to pack whatever you need. He is bringing you to the estate tonight. I am done playing games with Evelyn Vance."
"Arthur, I can't just walk into your life after all this time," I panicked. "I don't even know you anymore."
"You don't have to know me tonight," Arthur said softly, the aggression fading into a profound, desperate vulnerability. "But you have to let me protect you. Please, Sarah. Bring my daughter home."
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I looked at the cheap coffee table, at the fraudulent documents that had dictated my misery. I looked at Marcus, who was already standing by the door, waiting for my command.
"Okay," I whispered. "We're coming."
