Chapter 2 - Beckett Kidnapped Fiona’s Sick Mother to Silence the Maid—But Weston Let Everyone Believe His Betrayal Had Worked While Fiona Walked Straight Into the TrapBy sunrise, Weston’s mansion no longer felt like a home.
It felt like enemy territory.
Weston locked down the property.
Nobody left.
Nobody entered.
Phones were surrendered.
Security access was reset.
Howeran personally inspected every camera and alarm.
Yet Fiona trusted none of it.
Her mother remained missing.
Moren needed dialysis by afternoon.
Without it, complications could become serious quickly.
That meant Beckett had created more than emotional leverage.
He had created a clock.
Weston found Fiona in the kitchen at six in the morning.
She was making coffee.
“You’re cleaning?”
“I’m thinking.”
“You think while cleaning?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because unlike Mafia bosses, maids aren't allowed to stare dramatically out windows all day.”
Weston looked at the cup she placed in front of him.
Black.
No sugar.
Right edge of saucer.
“You know exactly how I drink this.”
“I've made it for three years.”
“I never noticed.”
“I know.”
The words carried no accusation.
That made them worse.
Weston sat.
“What else haven't I noticed?”
Fiona stopped.
“About the house?”
“About anything.”
She thought.
“Karen changes perfume whenever she's lying about where she's been.”
Weston frowned.
“Seriously?”
“Her usual perfume is French. When she sees Beckett, she uses a citrus scent because he likes it.”
Weston stared.
“Anything else?”
“Beckett steals cigars from your study.”
“I know that.”
“Howeran has arthritis in his left hand.”
Weston looked toward the doorway.
“You knew?”
“He drops things when it rains.”
“What else?”
“Your cook sends half her salary to a son in Detroit.”
Weston leaned back.
“Jesus.”
“People tell you things when you're invisible.”
“No. People reveal things because they assume you don't matter.”
Fiona met his eyes.
“Same difference.”
“No.”
Weston’s voice softened.
“It isn't.”
Something shifted.
Fiona looked away.
“We need my mother.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Weston spread a map.
Old Kingsley Freight Terminal sat near the Calumet River.
Abandoned five years earlier.
Multiple entrances.
Underground utility corridors.
Beckett knew Weston would expect snipers.
Therefore Weston would give him what he wanted.
A man arriving alone.
Except Fiona had another idea.
“I go first.”
“No.”
“He wants me silenced.”
“No.”
“He thinks I'm weak.”
“No.”
“Weston.”
“No.”
She crossed her arms.
“Are all your strategic discussions this sophisticated?”
His eyes narrowed.
“Fiona.”
“If you walk in alone, Beckett watches every movement.”
“Yes.”
“If I walk in first, I'm a hostage.”
“You're not becoming bait.”
“I already am.”
He stopped.
Fiona continued.
“Use it.”
Weston hated the plan.
That was probably why it could work.
Howeran fitted Fiona with a transmitter hidden inside a button.
A tracker went inside her shoe.
Weston would arrive eight minutes later.
Federal police were not an option.
Too many compromised officials.
Instead, Howeran assembled four men he trusted personally.
Fiona looked at them.
“How do you know they're loyal?”
Howeran answered:
“I trained them.”
“So did Beckett know them?”
Silence.
Weston smiled slightly.
“She has a point.”
Eventually they chose only two.
That afternoon, Fiona received a photograph.
Moren.
Alive.
Attached to dialysis equipment.
Fiona nearly collapsed from relief.
“They're treating her.”
Weston examined the image.
“Look at the wall.”
A logo appeared behind the machine.
Lakefront Renal Services.
Howeran searched.
Three clinics.
Two operating.
One abandoned.
Weston smiled.
“Beckett made a mistake.”
Fiona grabbed her coat.
“No.”
She stared.
“We know where she is.”
“And that means they may want us to know.”
Her excitement disappeared.
Another trap.
Weston contacted a doctor through a trusted intermediary.
The clinic was checked remotely.
Empty.
The photograph was old or staged.
Beckett wanted them wasting time.
Fiona sat down.
“I can't do this.”
Weston crouched in front of her.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“We will get her.”
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
The honesty surprised her.
“But I know Beckett.”
“So?”
“He needs leverage.”
Weston leaned closer.
“He won't kill your mother before he gets what he wants.”
“What does he want?”
“Me.”
“Why not kill you last night?”
“Because he needs something first.”
That became the question.
What did Beckett need from Weston?
The answer arrived two hours later.
Elias Mercer disappeared.
So did three encrypted hardware keys from Weston’s private vault.
Three keys.
But the Kingsley trust required four.
Weston possessed the fourth.
Without it, nobody could move the core assets.
“Twenty-four million was only the beginning,” Howeran said.
Weston nodded.
“They want everything.”
Over nine hundred million dollars.
Legitimate and otherwise.
Fiona stared.
“You're worth nine hundred million dollars?”
“Technically.”
“You made me reuse aluminum foil.”
Weston looked offended.
“That was Karen.”
“I'm adding it to her charges.”
He almost laughed.
Again.
Fiona realized she liked making him do that.
She immediately disliked that realization.
Weston was married.
To a woman plotting his murder, yes.
Still married.
And he was her employer.
And a criminal.
And dangerous.
Definitely dangerous.
She concentrated on the plan.
At 11:45 p.m., Fiona entered the freight terminal.
Alone.
Her footsteps echoed.
“Mom?”
No answer.
Then lights illuminated.
Beckett stood on an upper walkway.
Karen beside him.
Elias Mercer behind them.
Moren sat in a wheelchair.
“Fiona!”
“Mom!”
She started forward.
A gunman stopped her.
Beckett smiled.
“The mouse arrives.”
Fiona looked at Karen.
“You really hate being ignored, don't you?”
Karen’s face tightened.
“Excuse me?”
“You married the most powerful man you could find and still couldn't stand not being the center of every room.”
Karen descended the stairs.
“You scrub toilets.”
“And somehow you're threatened by me.”
Karen slapped her.
Fiona’s head snapped sideways.
The transmitter stayed attached.
Good.
Beckett laughed.
“Where’s Weston?”
“Coming.”
“You were told he should come alone.”
“He doesn't listen well.”
“True.”
A car entered the terminal.
Weston stepped out.
Alone.
At least visibly.
Beckett aimed a gun.
“Fourth key.”
Weston held up a small device.
“My wife first.”
Karen laughed.
“Still sentimental.”
Weston looked at her.
“No.”
She frowned.
“I meant Fiona's mother.”
Something flashed across Karen’s face.
Jealousy.
Fiona saw it.
Interesting.
Beckett shoved Moren forward.
Fiona ran to her.
Moren clung to her daughter.
“I'm okay.”
“Did they hurt you?”
“No.”
Weston tossed the key toward Beckett.
Mercer connected all four devices.
Numbers appeared.
Transfers began.
Then Mercer frowned.
“What?”
Beckett demanded.
“It's asking for biometric confirmation.”
Beckett looked at Weston.
“Come here.”
Weston did.
Fiona’s pulse accelerated.
This was the dangerous part.
Weston pressed his thumb against the scanner.
ACCESS GRANTED.
Beckett smiled.
Nine hundred million dollars began transferring.
Fiona looked at Weston.
He appeared calm.
Too calm.
Then she understood.
He wanted the transfer.
Why?
Twenty percent.
Forty.
Sixty.
Mercer smiled.
Then the screen turned red.
ACCOUNT FROZEN.
Beckett spun.
“What did you do?”
Weston smiled.
“Made you identify every account you planned to use.”
Howeran had set the system to trace the destinations before freezing everything.
Mercer backed away.
“You bastard.”
Weston’s smile vanished.
“Yes.”
Gunfire exploded.
Howeran’s men entered.
Fiona pushed Moren behind machinery.
Karen ran.
Beckett fired at Weston.
Weston returned fire.
Mercer disappeared through a side exit.
Within ninety seconds, the terminal became chaos.
Then Fiona saw Karen approaching Moren.
Gun raised.
Fiona grabbed a metal wrench.
She swung.
The wrench struck Karen’s wrist.
Gun fell.
Karen screamed.
“You little bitch!”
She attacked Fiona.
They crashed against the floor.
Karen grabbed Fiona’s hair.
Fiona drove her knee upward.
Karen rolled away.
Fiona reached for the gun.
Karen reached too.
A shot exploded.
Everything stopped.
Karen stared downward.
Blood spread across her shoulder.
Weston stood behind her.
Gun raised.
“Move away from Fiona.”
Karen laughed despite the pain.
“You're protecting the maid now?”
Weston’s expression remained cold.
“I'm protecting the woman who saved my life.”
Karen’s face changed.
Beckett escaped during the distraction.
So did Mercer.
But Moren was safe.
Karen was arrested by Howeran’s men and taken to a private secure location.
Weston had the evidence.
The accounts.
The conspiracy.
It should have felt like victory.
Instead, Fiona discovered another problem.
Karen wanted to talk.
Only to her.
Fiona entered the secure room.
Karen’s arm was bandaged.
“You think he cares about you.”
Fiona sighed.
“I came for information.”
“You're pathetic.”
“And you're handcuffed to a table.”
Karen smiled.
“You don't know Weston.”
“Neither did you, apparently.”
Karen leaned forward.
“Ask him how his father died.”
Fiona froze.
“What?”
“Ask him.”
“Why?”
“Because Beckett didn't start this.”
Karen smiled.
“The Kingsley family has been killing itself for twenty years.”
Fiona stared.
“What does that mean?”
“Weston thinks Beckett betrayed him because he's jealous.”
“He is.”
“Yes.”
“But that's not why he wants Weston dead.”
Karen’s smile disappeared.
“Beckett believes Weston murdered their mother.”
Fiona felt cold.
“And he has proof.”
That night Fiona confronted Weston.
“Did your mother die in an accident?”
His face changed.
“Who told you?”
“Karen.”
Weston looked away.
“Answer me.”
He walked toward the window.
“My mother died when Beckett was fifteen.”
“How?”
“Car crash.”
“Were you there?”
“Yes.”
“Was Beckett?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Weston remained silent too long.
Fiona understood.
“There’s more.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
He turned.
“My father ordered the crash.”
Fiona stared.
“And I knew.”
Silence.
“I knew before she got into the car.”
“Why didn't you stop her?”
Weston’s face became something Fiona had never seen.
Broken.
“Because I was nineteen.”
His voice dropped.
“And I was afraid of my father.”
Fiona said nothing.
Weston continued.
“My mother was planning to leave him. Take Beckett. Take me.”
He swallowed.
“My father discovered it.”
“And you did nothing.”
“No.”
The word nearly disappeared.
“I did nothing.”
Fiona understood suddenly.
Beckett’s hatred had roots.
But something remained wrong.
“Why does Beckett think you killed her?”
“I don't know.”
Fiona remembered Karen’s words.
“He has proof.”
Weston looked at her.
“What proof?”
Before she could answer, his phone rang.
Beckett.
Weston answered.
His brother’s voice came through.
“You finally told her about Mom?”
Weston went still.
Beckett laughed.
“Good.”
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere you should have looked years ago.”
“Beckett—”
“I found Father's recording.”
Weston’s face changed.
“What recording?”
“The one where he says you gave him the route.”
Silence.
Fiona stared at Weston.
Beckett continued.
“You didn't just let Mom die.”
“You helped him kill her.”
The call ended.
Weston stood motionless.
Then Fiona saw it.
Not guilt.
Confusion.
“You didn't give your father the route.”
“No.”
“Then someone made Beckett believe you did.”
Weston looked at her.
And suddenly both of them understood.
Someone had been manipulating Beckett long before Karen entered the family.
Someone who had survived Weston's father.
Someone who knew every Kingsley secret.
Someone who was still close enough to control both brothers.
Howeran entered the room.
“Boss?”
May you like
Weston slowly looked at the man who had served his family for twenty-three years.
And for the first time, Fiona saw fear in Howeran’s eyes.
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