The sleek silver Bentley purred to a halt in the driveway of Liam Callahan’s penthouse, the engine falling silent as Liam cut the ignition. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, a stark contrast to the usually invigorating feeling he got when he returned home. He had left for the office at the crack of dawn, feeling the familiar fire of ambition in his belly, but now, a creeping dread replaced it.
He stepped out of the car, the cool morning air hitting him like a slap. The penthouse, its glass facade reflecting the fading twilight, seemed to mock him with its sterile perfection. He pushed open the heavy glass doors, the sound of his entrance echoing in the cavernous space.
Isabelle sat at the breakfast table with the morning sunlight illuminating her long, dark hair, and the delicate lines of her face. She was lost in a book, a mug of steaming coffee resting on the counter. At the sound of his entrance, her head shot up, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Liam? Is everything alright? You left so early this morning.” she said, her voice laced with concern.
Penelope, the maid, stood behind Isabelle, a hesitant look on her face. She seemed equally startled by Liam’s unexpected return.
“Everything is fine, darling,” Liam said, his voice calm and measured, but the words felt hollow, even to his ears. He tried to force a smile, but it felt strained, almost painful.
“But you came back so quickly…,” Isabelle said, her brow furrowed, concern evident in her voice.
Liam avoided her gaze, his eyes scanning the penthouse. He was looking for any sign of disruption, anything that could explain the gut-wrenching unease that had taken root in his chest.
“I just needed to grab something I had forgotten,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Don’t worry about it.”
Isabelle’s gaze shifted to Penelope, then back to Liam, her eyes filled with questions. He knew she could sense the tension hanging between them, but he couldn’t bring himself to explain. He feared what the truth would do to her delicate composure.
“I’m going to my study, Penelope,” Liam said, his voice clipped, and there was no mistaking the hint of steel in it. “I need to speak with you.”
Penelope’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in alarm. She looked from Liam to Isabelle, her face pale and drawn. He saw the flicker of fear in her eyes, and a surge of anger coursed through him.
“You can excuse yourself, Isabelle,” Liam said, his voice hard as granite. “I’ll be down shortly.”
Without a word, Isabelle stood up, her gaze lingering on Liam, filled with confusion and unspoken questions. She turned away, her steps hesitant as she walked away.
Liam turned, his eyes fixed on Penelope. She stood there, frozen, her body trembling slightly. He didn’t hesitate. He strode towards his study, leaving her no choice but to follow.
The study was his sanctuary, a space where he could retreat from the clamor of the outside world. It was lined with bookshelves filled with the works of his favorite authors, a testament to his love for the written word. But today, the familiar tranquility of the room felt suffocating.
He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silence, and turned to face Penelope. The fear in her eyes was undeniable, and a wave of anger washed over him.
“Did you take it?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “How much did Damien Russo pay you?”
The woman blinked, her face a mask of confusion. “I’m sorry, Mr. Callahan, I don’t understand.”
Liam’s anger flared. He strode towards her, his movements predatory, and stopped just inches away, his presence radiating menace. “Don’t play dumb with me, Penelope.” he spat. “I know what you did. I know you stole Project Phoenix. You think you can get away with it?”
Penelope’s eyes widened, and a tremor ran through her body. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Callahan. I haven’t done anything.”
“Don’t lie to me!” Liam roared, his voice shaking with barely contained rage. “You think you can steal my work, my plans, and then act innocent? You think I wouldn’t find out?”
Penelope’s voice cracked. “I wouldn’t do that, Mr. Callahan. I swear… I would never betray you.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she shook her head, her face contorted with a mixture of confusion and fear.
Liam’s fists clenched. He saw the fear in Penelope’s eyes, the genuine pain on her face, and a flicker of doubt snaked its way into his mind. But the evidence was too compelling, too clear.
“I’m doing you a favor, Penelope,” he said, his voice icy, each word measured and deliberate. “I’m not having you arrested, but you need to leave. You need to leave now.”
Penelope’s shoulders slumped, her face crumbling as she began to cry. “I didn’t do anything, Mr. Callahan,” she pleaded. “Please believe me.”
But Liam had already turned away. He couldn’t bear to look at her anymore, to witness her distress. The betrayal, the theft, it was all too real, etched in the raw data he had seen that morning. His world had been shattered, his carefully constructed plans were in ruins. And this woman, his trusted maid, stood accused of being the architect of his downfall.
He watched as Penelope, her face streaked with tears, gathered her meager belongings, her footsteps heavy with sorrow as she left the study.
He walked out into the hallway, the space echoing with the silence of her departure. He saw Isabelle standing there, her eyes filled with worry. She had seen Penelope’s tears, and she was staring at him, her gaze searching for answers.
“Isabelle.” he began, his voice barely a whisper. “Penelope… she’s a spy. Damien Russo had her working for him.”
Isabelle’s face drained of color. “What? But… how could you…? She’s always been so kind, so… kind.”
Liam’s heart ached for her, for the innocent belief she held in the woman who had betrayed them both. He felt a pang of guilt, a sliver of self-doubt, but he couldn’t afford to be swayed by emotions. He had to protect himself, protect his company, protect everything he had built.
“I know it’s hard to believe, Isabelle,” he said, his voice strained. “But trust me, she had to be stopped.”
She looked at him, her face pale and drawn. “But what about her? She was just… she was just a maid.”
“I’m sorry, Isabelle,” Liam said, his voice rough with emotion. “I know it’s hard to understand, but she had to be sent away. She was a danger to my company, to our future.”
He saw the tears shimmering in her eyes, her body trembling slightly. She was trying to hold it together, but the shock, the betrayal, it was breaking her.
“She’s just a woman, Liam.” Isabelle pleaded, her voice shaking. “She doesn’t deserve this.”
Liam closed his eyes, the pain of her words piercing him. He knew she was right, but he had to be strong, he had to protect himself. He had to be ruthless.
“There’s nothing I can do, Isabelle,” he said, his voice firm but brittle. “She has to leave.”
He turned away from her, the grief in her eyes a knife twisting in his heart. He couldn’t bear to watch her pain, her heartbreak. He had to leave, to get away, to regain control of the situation.
“I’ll be back,” he said, his voice cold and distant. “I have something to take care of.”