Chapter 3 - The Debt Tristan Left Behind
Audrey stared at the photograph until her hands began to shake.
Tristan was alive.
His face was bruised. Blood darkened the corner of his mouth. His shirt was torn, and rope bound his wrists to the arms of a wooden chair.
But he was alive.
For three weeks, Audrey had believed he had abandoned them.
She had told herself she hated him.
She had told herself she was better off without him.
But seeing him like that brought back memories she had tried to bury—the man he had been before the gambling, before the secret phone calls, before the debts.
“Mommy?”
Brinley stood beside the bed, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Audrey quickly folded the photograph.
“Nothing, baby.”
“You look scared.”
“I’m okay.”
Brinley looked at her with serious little eyes.
“My mommy doesn’t lie.”
Audrey swallowed.
Before she could answer, there was a quiet knock at the door.
Reggie Shaw stood outside.
“Mr. Mercer wants to see you.”
Audrey placed the photograph inside her backpack.
“Can Brinley stay with Dolores?”
Reggie looked down the hallway.
“Dolores is already waiting.”
Brinley held up Buttons.
“Look! He has two eyes now!”
The teddy bear’s missing eye had been replaced with a small black button sewn perfectly into place.
Audrey forced a smile.
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart.”
Brinley hugged the bear.
“Mr. Sad Man fixed him.”
Reggie’s mouth twitched, but he quickly hid it.
Audrey followed him downstairs.
Jude was waiting in the same private study where Brinley had found him the night before. This time, the gun was gone, but the room felt even more dangerous.
He stood near the fireplace, looking at a file in his hands.
“Sit,” he said.
Audrey remained standing.
“I received a photograph this morning.”
“I know.”
Her breath caught.
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“You had someone leave it outside my door?”
“No.”
Jude looked at her then, and his eyes turned colder.
“But whoever did wants you frightened.”
Audrey pulled out the photograph and placed it on his desk.
“Is Tristan here?”
“No.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Yes.”
The word made her stomach twist.
“Then why is he tied to a chair?”
“Because your husband did not borrow one hundred eighty-seven thousand dollars.”
Audrey stared at him.
“What?”
“He borrowed almost two million.”
She shook her head. “That’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible when someone is desperate, dishonest, and stupid.”
Jude opened the file.
“Tristan Wells was moving money through shell companies connected to my shipping division. He was taking loans from men who work for people I do not tolerate.”
Audrey felt dizzy.
“He worked in insurance.”
“He worked in insurance because it gave him access to financial information. It made him look harmless.”
“He was not involved with organized crime.”
Jude’s gaze sharpened.
“You think criminals wear signs around their necks?”
Audrey’s face went pale.
Jude continued.
“Tristan was stealing from men connected to the Bellini family. He used your name, your address, and your social security number as collateral on some of the accounts.”
“No.”
“He also used Brinley’s name.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Audrey reached for the desk to steady herself.
“What do you mean, he used my daughter’s name?”
“He created a trust account under her identity.”
“She is three.”
“Exactly. No one looks at a three-year-old’s financial history.”
Audrey felt sick.
Jude watched her carefully.
“You didn’t know.”
It was not a question.
“No,” she whispered. “I didn’t know.”
For a long moment, Jude said nothing.
Then he moved around the desk and poured a glass of water.
He placed it in front of her.
Audrey stared at it.
“Drink,” he said.
“I’m fine.”
“You look like you might faint.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Jude’s jaw tightened, but he did not push.
Instead, he said, “Tristan is alive. He is being held by the Bellinis.”
“Then help him.”
Jude looked almost surprised.
“After what he did?”
“He is Brinley’s father.”
“He put her name on criminal accounts.”
“I know that.” Audrey’s voice broke. “But he is still her father.”
Jude looked away.
Something flickered across his face.
Pain.
Regret.
Maybe memory.
“My people are trying to find him,” he said. “But you need to understand something. The Bellinis are not after money anymore.”
“What are they after?”
“Leverage.”
Audrey’s fingers tightened around the photograph.
“What does that mean?”
“It means they believe Tristan stole something more valuable than cash.”
Jude handed her another document.
It was a list of names.
Business owners.
Politicians.
Port officials.
And at the bottom was one name Audrey recognized immediately.
Jude Mercer.
“He took information about you?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Jude’s expression darkened.
“Because someone told him it could destroy me.”
At that exact moment, the study door opened.
Dolores stood there, pale and breathless.
“Mr. Mercer,” she said, “the little girl is gone.”
Audrey’s heart stopped.
“Brinley?”
“She was in the kitchen,” Dolores said. “I turned around for one second.”
Audrey was already running.
Then, from somewhere upstairs, Brinley’s voice echoed through the mansion.
“Mommy! I found a secret room!”
Jude’s face became deadly still.
“No,” he whispered.
Reggie turned toward the staircase.
“Third floor.”
Jude moved first.
May you like
And Audrey realized Brinley had entered the one place in the Mercer estate nobody—not even Jude’s closest men—was ever allowed to see.
---
