Chapter 2: The Woman at the Top of the Stairs
Dominic stayed in the pantry until 6 a.m.
He didn't pace.
He didn't make calls.
He stood at the small window and watched the rain hit the garden, and Emma watched him the way you watch someone deciding something that cannot be undecided.
Then his phone lit up.
He looked at the screen.
His jaw tightened.
"Who is her brother?" he asked quietly.
Emma hesitated.
"Marcus Harrington."
Something shifted in Dominic's expression.
"Marcus Harrington has been trying to acquire the Mercer coastal properties for two years."
Emma said nothing.
"Through three different holding companies." His voice dropped lower.
"All of which I turned down."
The silence between them was heavy.
"She wasn't just after the cottage," Emma said carefully.
"No." Dominic set his phone face-down on the counter.
"She wasn't."
Upstairs, a door opened.
Heels on hardwood.
Brooke's voice, bright and warm, drifted down the staircase.
"Good morning, darling.
I didn't hear you come in."
Emma's stomach dropped.
Dominic turned toward the hallway.
His face was calm.
Completely calm.
"She knows," Emma whispered.
"Yes," he said.
"Let's see what she does with that."
He straightened his coat and walked out to meet her.
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And in the entrance hall, Brooke Harrington stood at the top of the staircase — smiling beautifully, the unsigned folder nowhere in sight, and both hands clasped in front of her like a woman with nothing to hide.
But her eyes told a different story.
