Chapter 8: The Shadow of the Past
The adrenaline of the boardroom victory lasted exactly until they reached the safety of Julian’s heavily fortified penthouse on the Upper East Side. The moment the private elevator doors clicked shut, Maya sagged against the mirrored wall, kicking off the painful designer heels.
"You were magnificent," Julian murmured, stepping close and pressing his forehead against hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his warmth. "I have never seen Arthur look so terrified. You terrified him."
Maya let out a shaky breath, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I was terrified, Julian. If my voice had cracked even once, they would have eaten me alive."
Julian kissed her softly, a deep, lingering kiss that tasted of relief and unyielding devotion. "They wouldn't dare. You are a Sterling. It's in your blood to command a room."
Maya pulled back slightly, her expression sobering. "My blood. That’s what this all comes down to, isn’t it? Arthur tried to have me killed because of my blood. And we still don't have a shred of proof that he was behind Clara's murder or my kidnapping."
"Then we find it," Julian said, his eyes hardening with resolve. "Eleanor said Clara’s body washed up in Montauk three months after you were taken. But you were dropped at the Brooklyn orphanage the night of the hurricane—which was only two days after the kidnapping."
Maya frowned, her brow furrowing. "So where was Clara for those three months? If she rescued me and dropped me off, why didn't she run? Why did she stay in New York?"
"She must have been hiding," Julian theorized, walking over to his massive oak desk and pulling out a laptop. "Or she was trying to get something. Blackmail material, maybe? If Arthur paid her to look the other way while he took you, and she double-crossed him by saving you, she would need leverage to keep him from hunting her down."
"She handed me over to a priest," Maya recalled, thinking back to the stories the nuns had told her. "Father Thomas. He passed away when I was ten, but the nuns said she was bleeding heavily. She handed him the baby, the jade pendant, and a small key."
Julian stopped typing and looked up sharply. "A key? You never mentioned a key."
"I forgot about it until now," Maya admitted, rubbing her temples. "The nuns kept it in my file. When I aged out of the foster system at eighteen, they gave me an envelope with the pendant and a tiny, rusty brass key. I still have it. It’s in my jewelry box at the apartment."
"Arthur's men are likely watching your apartment right now," Julian warned. "But we have to get that key. If Clara left something behind, a safety deposit box or a locker, it might be the smoking gun we need to put Arthur away for good."
"I'll go," Maya said immediately.
"Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."
"Julian, no one knows my neighborhood better than I do. I know the fire escapes, the alleyways. If you go, your face is too recognizable. You’ll be spotted instantly." Maya grabbed his hand, her grip tight and resolute. "We are in this together. I’m not playing the helpless damsel."
Julian looked at her, his heart swelling with a mixture of immense pride and deep, agonizing fear. He finally nodded. "Okay. But we go together. We take my security team, and we move in the shadows."
Under the cover of darkness, two black SUVs slipped out of the penthouse garage. The rain was still pouring, washing the grime from the city streets. As they approached Maya’s Brooklyn apartment, Julian’s lead security officer radioed in.
May you like
"Boss, we've got a problem. The front door to the apartment building is forced open. Looks like someone beat us here."
Maya’s heart plummeted. If Arthur’s men found that key, their only link to the past would be destroyed forever.
