Chapter 2 - Eight Names
Jude ordered everyone else out of the ballroom.
Two hundred guests disappeared within minutes.
The eight men remained.
So did I.
A physician from Jude's private security team examined my shoulder in the library.
"Dislocated," Dr. Alvarez said. "Probably no fracture, but she needs imaging."
"Fix it."
"Jude—"
"Please."
The doctor looked surprised.
So was I.
Jude Mercer rarely said please.
Dr. Alvarez gave me medication and reset the joint.
I screamed anyway.
Jude stood beside the window, both hands clenched.
When it was over, my arm was secured in a sling.
"You should go to the hospital," Alvarez said.
"Later," I replied.
Jude turned.
"Now."
"No."
His eyebrows rose.
"I want to know what happens."
"You need medical care."
"And those men need consequences."
A long silence followed.
Then Jude nodded once.
"Fair."
Daniel entered.
Tall, gray-haired, and calm, he had managed Jude's security for fifteen years.
"We checked the corridor cameras."
My stomach tightened.
"And?"
Daniel looked at me.
"The incident occurred outside camera coverage."
Bryce laughed from the adjoining ballroom.
"See?"
Jude walked toward the door.
"Wait," I said.
He stopped.
"They knew."
Jude looked back.
"What?"
"They knew exactly where the cameras couldn't see."
Daniel's expression changed.
Jude's did not.
"Pull employee access records," he said.
Daniel nodded.
"Every security map opened in the last six months."
"Already doing it."
Bryce called from the ballroom.
"This is insane!"
Jude walked inside.
I followed.
Bryce pointed toward me.
"She's a maid!"
Jude's voice became dangerously quiet.
"Housekeeper."
"What?"
"She's a housekeeper. If you're going to insult someone, at least know her job."
Tyler Crawford shook his head.
"You can't detain us."
"You're free to call the police."
Silence.
Jude gestured toward a phone.
"Go ahead."
Nobody moved.
Because police meant statements.
Statements meant investigations.
Investigations meant headlines.
Bryce recovered first.
"My father will destroy you."
"Call him."
Bryce blinked.
Jude slid his phone across the table.
"Call Daddy."
Bryce picked it up.
Minutes later, Judge Whitmore answered.
"Bryce?"
"Dad, Mercer won't let us leave."
"What happened?"
Bryce glanced at me.
"Nothing."
Jude leaned toward the phone.
"Your son and seven friends assaulted one of my employees."
Silence.
Then the judge said, "Mr. Mercer, I'm certain there's been a misunderstanding."
Audrey the housekeeper might have been intimidated by that voice.
Audrey with her shoulder strapped against her chest wasn't.
"No misunderstanding."
The judge heard me.
"Who's that?"
"The woman your son hit."
Bryce whispered, "Shut up."
Jude moved so quickly that Bryce stumbled backward.
Jude never touched him.
He didn't need to.
"Tell her that again."
Bryce stared at him.
"Jude—"
"Tell Audrey to shut up again."
Bryce lowered his eyes.
Jude picked up the phone.
"Judge, you have a problem."
"Are you threatening me?"
"No."
Jude looked directly at Bryce.
"I'm giving you the courtesy of hearing about it before the rest of America does."
He disconnected.
Bryce exploded.
"You think because you have money—"
"This isn't about money."
Jude walked toward him.
"It's about eight men cornering one woman because they thought nobody important would care."
Bryce sneered.
"And suddenly you care?"
That question changed the room.
Bryce noticed it.
So did I.
His smile returned.
"Oh."
Jude's eyes hardened.
Bryce looked at me.
"Now I understand."
"Understand what?" I asked.
"Why Mercer is acting like some knight in a black suit."
Jude stepped between us.
"Careful."
Bryce grinned.
"She's sleeping with you."
My stomach dropped.
Jude's expression became perfectly calm.
"Daniel."
"Yes?"
"Remove Mr. Whitmore from my sight."
Two guards escorted Bryce toward another room.
He shouted over his shoulder.
"This isn't over!"
Jude watched him disappear.
"No."
His voice was almost a whisper.
"It isn't."
Then Daniel's phone buzzed.
He looked down.
His face changed.
"Jude."
"What?"
"We found who accessed the security maps."
"Who?"
May you like
Daniel looked toward the ballroom staff.
"Someone inside Mercer House."
