Chapter 6 - The Interrogation
The Lake Forest police cruiser did not arrive with sirens blazing; it glided up the winding, snow-banked driveway at 7:15 AM, its black-and-white frame cutting starkly against the pristine morning light.
Inside the mansion’s kitchen, Maya was standing by the center island, pouring freshly squeezed orange juice into a crystal carafe. She wore her simple, elegant dark skirt and cream blouse—her estate manager attire.
The heavy oak front door opened.
Two uniformed officers and a plainclothes detective with a weathered face and an iron-gray crew cut stepped into the foyer.
Detective Thomas Vance.
No relation to Victoria Vance—or so the public records claimed—though Grant Mercer knew that Detective Vance’s brother was a senior equity partner at Richard Vance’s law firm. The web of influence in Cook County was small, incestuous, and thoroughly greased by old money.
“Mr. Mercer!” Detective Vance called out, his voice booming through the vaulted hall. “We received an anonymous emergency dispatch regarding an ongoing commercial grand larceny at this address.”
Grant stepped down the stairs from the second-floor mezzanine. He looked completely composed, dressed in a bespoke three-piece navy suit, every inch the untouchable tech baron.
“Detective Vance,” Grant said evenly, reaching the bottom step. “A grand larceny? In my home?”
Maya hurried out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a linen towel, her brow furrowed in alarm. “Mr. Mercer? What’s happening?”
Detective Vance’s eyes snapped to Maya, narrowing with practiced suspicion. Behind him, the front door clicked open again, and Victoria Vance stepped inside, dressed in a sweeping black wool coat and leather gloves, looking every bit the concerned family confidante.
“Thank God you’re here, Thomas,” Victoria said smoothly, walking up beside the detective. She looked at Grant with an expression of performative horror. “Grant, darling, I had to come. An anonymous source in Julian’s office tipped my father that your domestic manager was shopping proprietary hardware and heirloom jewelry to high-end pawn syndicates in the Loop. I couldn't let you be victimized again.”
Maya stopped dead in the middle of the foyer. The blood drained instantly from her cheeks.
*“Pawn syndicates?”* Maya whispered, her voice shaking with disbelief. “What are you talking about? I haven't left this property since Monday!”
“Save it for the magistrate, honey,” Detective Vance said, pulling a folded search warrant from his breast pocket and waving it dismissively. “Mr. Mercer, we have probable cause to search the staff quarters and locker facilities immediately. Unless you want to obstruct a felony investigation?”
Grant didn't flinch. He didn't raise his voice. He glanced at Victoria, whose lips curved into a tiny, triumphant smirk. She was waiting for Grant to crumble—waiting for his old paranoia to kick in, for him to look at Maya and see another traitor.
Instead, Grant turned his gaze to Maya.
His eyes were soft, steady, and filled with an absolute, unshakeable trust that knocked the breath out of her.
“Go ahead, Detective,” Grant said calmly, stepping aside. “Search the locker room. The basement corridor, third door on the right.”
Victoria’s smirk broadened. “You see, Grant? Even you know she’s dirty. You can’t help who you are, can you?”
Maya felt the floor spinning beneath her feet. The phantom horror of being framed, of losing everything—Leo’s medical care, her freedom, her dignity—rushed over her like a tidal wave. She looked at Grant, her lips trembling.
“Grant... I swear to you on my brother’s life, I didn't—”
Grant walked over to her. In front of the police, in front of Detective Vance, and in front of an increasingly bewildered Victoria Vance, Grant Mercer reached out and took Maya’s cold hand in both of his.
“I know,” Grant whispered, loud enough for the entire room to hear. “I know who you are, Maya. Don’t be afraid.”
Detective Vance returned three minutes later.
His expression was not triumphant. It was completely blank. In his hands, he carried Maya’s canvas bag from Locker 4.
Victoria stepped forward eagerly. “Well? Did you find the Patek Philippe? Did you find the flash drive with the biometric encryption protocols?”
Detective Vance opened the bag on the marble table.
He pulled out a plastic container with a peanut butter sandwich.
A paperback novel with a dog-eared cover.
A bottle of ibuprofen.
And a handwritten physical therapy schedule for Leo Collins.
Nothing else.
Victoria’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s impossible! Check the false bottom! Check behind the locker shelves!”
“The locker is empty, Miss Vance,” Detective Vance muttered, looking uncomfortable. “There are no bearer bonds. No watch. No drives.”
“She hid them somewhere else!” Victoria shrieked, losing her aristocratic composure, her voice turning shrill and desperate. “Brenda saw her! Brenda texted Julian that—”
Victoria stopped dead.
The words hung in the freezing air of the foyer like a fatal confession.
Grant’s smile was thin, razor-sharp, and deadly.
“Brenda texted Julian?” Grant murmured, taking a single step toward Victoria. “How curious. Why would my junior laundry assistant be texting Julian Sterling about the contents of my private safe?”
Victoria’s face turned from pale to paper-white. “I... I meant... Julian received an anonymous—”
“Brenda is currently in my private security annex,” Grant interrupted, his voice dropping into a terrifyingly calm register. “She has already given a sworn video deposition to former Assistant U.S. Attorney Marcus Webb. She has handed over the burner phone Julian provided her, including the wire-transfer records of the five-thousand-dollar bribe sent from Sterling Capital to plant stolen property in Maya’s locker.”
Detective Vance took half a step back from Victoria, his instincts as an officer finally overpowering his political loyalties. “Miss Vance... is this true?”
“This is absurd!” Victoria hissed, backing toward the front door. “This is a setup! Grant, you’re insane!”
“Detective Vance,” Grant said, turning his cold gaze onto the officer. “You have a choice right now. You can either arrest Miss Vance for felony conspiracy, filing a false police report, and witness tampering... or I can call the Cook County State’s Attorney directly on his personal line and explain why Lake Forest cruisers are being used as private assault squads for Julian Sterling’s corporate sabotage.”
Detective Vance swallowed hard. He looked at Victoria, then at the granite-faced billionaire standing before him.
“Miss Vance,” Detective Vance said, his voice tight. “I think you’d better step outside with me. We have some questions that need answering downtown.”
“Don’t you dare touch me!” Victoria screamed as the detective firmly took her arm, guiding her out the heavy doors into the morning snow. “Grant! You’ll regret this! My father will destroy you! Do you hear me? You’ll lose everything tonight!”
The front doors slammed shut.
The foyer fell into a stunned, ringing silence.
Maya stood beside the marble table, her hand still clutched in Grant’s. Her knees buckled slightly as the adrenaline evaporated, leaving behind a cold, trembling shock.
Grant caught her immediately, his strong arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest before she could hit the floor.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered fiercely into her hair. “I’ve got you, Maya. It’s over. They can never touch you again.”
Maya buried her face into the lapel of his navy suit, her fingers gripping his shoulders, her body wracked with silent, shuddering sobs of sheer relief. For two minutes, neither of them moved. He held her tightly against him, his chin resting gently on the crown of her head, shielding her from the world with his own body.
Slowly, Maya pulled back, looking up into his dark eyes.
“You knew,” she breathed. “You knew they were going to plant it.”
“I caught Brenda last night,” Grant explained softly, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears on her cheeks. “Marcus emptied the locker before dawn. But I needed Victoria to show her hand in front of the police. I needed her on the record.”
Maya looked at him, her hazel eyes searching his face with a mixture of awe and profound emotion.
“You didn't doubt me,” she whispered. “Not for a second.”
“I will never doubt you again, Maya,” Grant said, his voice thick with an intensity that made the breath catch in her throat. “For the rest of my life, you are the one thing I know to be true.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy cream-and-gold invitation card.
“Tonight is the Chicago Symphony Orchestra Winter Gala,” Grant said. “Julian Sterling has organized a hostile proxy takeover during the intermission. He thinks he’s going to strip me of Mercer Tech and celebrate his victory in front of three hundred of the most powerful people in the Midwest.”
Maya looked at the gold-embossed card. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to end him,” Grant said. “And I want you at my side. Not as my employee. As my equal. Will you come with me, Maya?”
Maya Collins looked at the man who had once tested her with a stack of hundred-dollar bills, and who now offered her his complete, unguarded heart.
She straightened her shoulders, a brilliant, fearless light igniting in her hazel eyes.
May you like
“Get me a dress, Mr. Mercer,” she said. “Let’s go take down a monster.”
***