Chapter 1: The Man Who Came Home Early
"You came back?"
Emma Collins nearly dropped the silver breakfast tray.
At 5:07 on a rain-black Thursday morning, Dominic Mercer—the man half of New England feared and the other half pretended not to know—was standing inside the servants' pantry of his own Newport mansion with one finger pressed to his lips.
He was supposed to be in London until Monday.
Instead, rainwater glistened on the shoulders of his black coat, his private jet had landed without appearing on the household schedule, and only two members of his security team knew he was home.
Emma stared at him.
"Does Brooke know?"
"No."
His answer came so quickly that her stomach tightened.
"And she cannot know."
"Why?"
Dominic's eyes shifted toward the hallway.
"Because last night my nine-year-old nephew called me crying."
Emma froze.
"Noah?"
Dominic nodded.
"He asked why Brooke said his mother wouldn't be allowed to live here after Saturday."
Saturday was Dominic's wedding.
Emma slowly set down the tray.
Dominic's younger sister Natalie had moved into the Mercer estate six months earlier after her husband d*ed suddenly.
Natalie had never asked Dominic for money.
She had only needed somewhere quiet for Noah while she rebuilt her life.
Their late mother, Catherine Mercer, had made Dominic promise years ago that Natalie would always have a home on the family property.
Brooke Harrington knew that.
Everyone knew that.
Dominic's voice dropped.
"Then Noah asked me another question."
Emma waited.
"He asked why Brooke said Grandma Catherine's house belonged to her now."
Emma's expression changed.
"Dominic…"
"I know."
The old cottage on the eastern side of the estate had belonged to Catherine Mercer.
After her passing, it became part of a family trust intended for Natalie and Noah.
It was not Dominic's to give Brooke.
It certainly was not Brooke's to take.
Before Emma could say another word, footsteps sounded outside.
High heels.
Slow.
Confident.
Brooke.
Dominic silently moved behind an old service door connecting the pantry to the unused wine corridor.
Seconds later, Brooke entered.
Her honey-blond hair was already styled despite the hour.
She wore a cream silk robe beneath a designer coat and carried a leather folder.
She barely glanced at Emma.
"Where is Natalie?"
"Upstairs, I think."
"You think?"
Emma kept her voice calm.
"It's five in the morning."
Brooke smiled.
"Then wake her."
Emma did not move.
Brooke's smile disappeared.
"I said wake her."
"Why?"
That single word irritated Brooke more than an argument would have.
She placed the leather folder on the counter.
"Because your job is to follow instructions, not interrogate the future Mrs.
Mercer."
Behind the service door, Dominic heard every word.
Emma looked at the folder.
"What is that?"
"None of your concern."
Brooke picked up the coffee tray, inspected it, then deliberately tipped one porcelain cup onto the marble floor.
It shattered.
Coffee spread across Emma's shoes.
Emma looked down.
Brooke calmly returned the tray.
"Careless."
"You dropped it."
Brooke leaned closer.
"And who exactly do you think will believe you?"
Emma's eyes flicked toward the hidden door.
Brooke noticed nothing.
"The cup comes out of your wages," she said.
"Along with the vase from Tuesday."
"You broke that vase too."
"I'm beginning to dislike your tone."
"And I'm beginning to dislike paying for things you break."
For one dangerous second, Brooke's polished mask slipped.
Then she smiled.
"Enjoy that confidence while you still work here."
A soft voice came from the hallway.
"Brooke?"
Natalie Mercer appeared wearing pajama pants and one of her late husband's college sweatshirts.
Her face was pale from exhaustion.
"What's going on?"
Brooke immediately became sweet.
"There you are."
Natalie looked toward the broken cup.
"What happened?"
"Emma had another accident."
Emma opened her mouth.
Then she remembered Dominic behind the door.
Watch.
So she said nothing.
Brooke picked up the leather folder.
"I need your signature."
Natalie frowned.
"On what?"
"Just a family housekeeping matter."
"At five in the morning?"
"The attorney is coming at eight."
Natalie opened the folder.
Within seconds, the sleep vanished from her face.
"What is this?"
Brooke's tone remained smooth.
"A residency agreement."
"This says Noah and I permanently waive any claim to the east cottage."
Emma stopped breathing.
Behind the door, Dominic went completely still.
Natalie looked up.
"That cottage was Mom's."
"Yes."
"She left it in trust for Noah."
Brooke sighed as though explaining something to a difficult child.
"You aren't actually going to live there forever."
"That isn't the point."
"The point is that after Saturday, I'll be running this household, and I need clarity."
Natalie stared at her.
"You want me to sign away my son's inheritance four days after you told Dominic you loved having us here?"
Brooke's expression hardened.
"Your brother is too sentimental where you're concerned."
Natalie closed the folder.
"I'm not signing."
Brooke took one step closer.
"Think carefully."
"There's nothing to think about."
"Then perhaps you and Noah should begin thinking about another place to live."
Emma said quietly, "Brooke."
Brooke turned on her.
"Stay out of this."
Natalie's eyes filled with disbelief.
"You're threatening to throw out a nine-year-old boy before your wedding?"
"I'm establishing boundaries."
"No.
You're trying to st*al something my mother left my son."
Brooke lowered her voice.
"Sign the agreement, Natalie."
"No."
"Sign it, and everything stays peaceful."
"No."
Brooke's smile vanished entirely.
"Then by breakfast tomorrow, you and your son can be off this property."
Behind the service door, Dominic Mercer finally moved.
Emma heard the faint click of his cuff link striking the wood.
Brooke heard it too.
Her head turned sharply toward the pantry door.
"What was that?"
Emma's heart pounded.
Brooke started walking toward the hidden door.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Then Noah's frightened voice came from the hallway.
"Mom?"
Brooke turned.
The boy stood barefoot near the staircase, clutching a stuffed baseball mascot to his chest.
Natalie hurried to him.
Brooke looked back toward Emma.
"This conversation isn't finished."
She walked out carrying the unsigned papers.
Natalie followed Noah upstairs.
Only when the footsteps disappeared did Dominic emerge.
His face was almost frighteningly calm.
Emma had worked for the Mercer family long enough to know that Dominic shouting was unpleasant.
Dominic becoming quiet was worse.
He looked at the coffee spreading across the floor.
Then toward the staircase his sister had just climbed.
"How long?"
Emma swallowed.
"How long what?"
"How long has the woman I'm supposed to marry been treating my family and everyone in this house like that?"
Emma looked directly at him.
"Since she became convinced you would never see it."
Dominic's jaw tightened.
"Tell me everything."
Emma shook her head.
"No."
His eyebrows rose.
"No?"
"If I tell you, she'll call me jealous.
She'll say Natalie is grieving and unstable.
She'll blame the staff.
She'll cry.
She'll apologize.
And eventually you'll wonder whether everyone exaggerated."
Dominic stared at her.
"Then what do you suggest?"
Emma picked up the broken coffee cup.
"Don't ask us who Brooke is."
She placed the pieces on the tray.
"Watch her when she thinks you're three thousand miles away."
For the first time since entering the pantry, Dominic smiled.
It wasn't a pleasant smile.
"That," he said, "is exactly why I came home."
Neither of them knew that upstairs, Brooke Harrington had just sent a two-word text to her older brother.
May you like
*He suspects.*
And less than a minute later, the reply appeared.
