Chapter 4 - The Tables Turn
Chadworth didn't wait for the security team to assemble. He strode out of the subterranean vault, his footsteps echoing like thunder through the private service corridors that led directly into the heart of the mansion. Every ounce of his corporate aggression, usually reserved for hostile boardrooms and ruthless corporate takeovers, was now focused on a single, singular objective: protecting his daughters and destroying the parasite that had infected his home.
Upstairs, Sabina had re-entered the sunroom holding a folded document folder. Her face had regained its terrifying, icy composure, though her eyes burned with malice.
"Rosamund," Sabina said, her voice dripping with venom as she tossed the folder onto the coffee table. "You've crossed the line for the last time. Pack your bags. You are fired, effective immediately. And if you attempt to contact Mr. Prescott while he is in Canada, I will ensure you spend the next ten years of your life defending yourself against felony charges of corporate espionage."
Rosamund did not flinch. She placed her hands gently on Lorelai and Gemma’s shoulders, guiding them slowly toward the heavy oak double doors leading to the private library. "The girls are going to wait in the library, Miss Sabina. As for my employment, I believe that is a conversation best had with Mr. Prescott himself."
"Chadworth isn't here!" Sabina laughed, a sharp, brittle sound that echoed off the vaulted ceilings. "And by the time he returns from Canada, you will be gone, and these ungrateful brats will be on a one-way flight to a strict boarding school in Vermont. You lost. You are nothing."
"Are you certain about that?"
The voice did not come from the doorway. It echoed from the grand arched entrance behind Sabina, carrying the chilling weight of a predator who had just cornered its prey.
Sabina froze. Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly turned around.
Chadworth stood in the center of the sunroom, his coat unbuttoned, his expression entirely devoid of warmth. Behind him stood the head of security and two local uniformed officers holding federal warrants and digital evidence drives.
For a terrifying second, Sabina tried to slip back into her mask, forcing a fragile, trembling smile to her lips. "Chadworth... darling. You’re back early? I thought your flight to Canada was delayed—"
"The flight never existed, Sabina," Chadworth interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a razor blade. He walked slowly toward her, his eyes locked onto hers with a terrifying intensity. "Just like the affection you claimed to have for my daughters. Just like the innocent concern you had for my assets. Just like the lies you spun about the only person in this house who actually cared for my children."
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Sabina stepped back until her legs hit the edge of the mahogany table, her eyes darting frantically toward the doors, only to find the path blocked by the security detail. "You don't understand... those files... they're forged by the maid! She manipulated the system to make it look like—"
"Stop talking," Chadworth said quietly, stopping just inches from her. "Every word you utter from this point forward is simply adding another year to your federal sentence."
