Ellen’s POV

After they adopted the child, Grandma Monica took over the family business. She disregarded my father's efforts and ran it single-handedly. She demanded excessive care and attention, despite his having his own family to support. She doted on this adopted daughter far more than she did on Liz, Gabriel, and me. Near her deathbed, my father learned from sources in the legal department that Grandma Monica planned to leave everything to this unknown child, whose parents were unidentified.

Grandma Monica had cancer, which ultimately caused her death. To preempt any erratic behavior, my father asked hospital staff to include dementia in her medical report. And she did act erratically.

“So, while she was saintly to almost everyone, she was cruel to me and turned me into the person I am today,” my father sighed, taking a sip of whiskey.

Zeke’s POV

Sitting in my study, surrounded by work, my mind was preoccupied with Ellen. How on earth did she get into my bed? Did I really call her? Was I that drunk?

My mind raced with the possibilities. Where was my security? Was no one competent on duty?

I immediately called Andrew. After a few rings, he answered. “Mr. Reid,” he said.

“Who was on duty at my house last night?” I asked, controlling my anger.

“I’m sorry, sir, but it was men from Elite Security Division B,” Andrew replied.

“Fuck!” I cursed.

If she could deceive Division B, only Division A could be relied upon for home security. Division C was the lowest rank, assigned to children and pets. Division B protected the home and defended against external threats. Division A was for critical situations where the home’s safety was compromised.

“Replace Division B. Bring in Division A,” I instructed. “Also, I need copies of the security footage from the casino and my mansion last night.”

“Noted, sir,” he replied.

“Immediately,” I added.

“Definitely, sir,” Andrew said before I hung up. I hoped Ellen wouldn’t make a fuss, but I doubted it. She always seeks trouble.

My phone pinged. It was a message from the special forces agent assigned to Kamille. My mind had been so focused on Ellen that I’d forgotten to check in with the team. I reread the message:

Kamille just ordered a car. What should we do?

I texted back: “Ensure she gets her car safely and without incident.”

Why would she suddenly need a car? Was she in trouble?

As I walked into the hallway, possibilities swirled. But one thing was clear: I would protect her, no matter the cost.

I called Mr. Rogers. He answered on the first ring.

“Mr. Reid,” he greeted.

“Rogers,” I said. “Kamille just ordered a car. I need you to ensure delivery immediately.”

“Okay, sir. Anything else?” Mr. Rogers asked. He’s been my assistant for years; he’s proactive and understands my methods.

“Yes. Install a tracker in the car, assign personnel to monitor it, and install CCTV with footage sent to my tablet. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” I hung up.

Just then, a message from Andrew appeared:

Sorry, Mr. Reid. We’re encountering difficulties extracting the CCTV footage. We’re doing our best and will send it immediately.

“Damn it.” Ellen would act on her accusations if given time.

“She’s crafty, as usual,” I muttered. “She uses lies and manipulation.” What game was she playing?

“Where the hell were Zane and Fletcher last night?” I muttered.

Feeling overwhelmed, I texted Zane and Fletcher: “You left me to deal with that woman alone. Whatever happens is on you both.”

I received an immediate reply:

Oh brother, stick with your WIFE!

Fletcher and Zane

Those idiots.