Chapter 6 - THE STEWARDSHIP TERMS
Roman refused to let Iris meet Henderson alone.
He refused more quietly than most men refused things, which made it much harder to argue with him.
Before any plan was set, Elena insisted on telling Iris the part of the story she had not yet shared.
Years earlier, after Arthur Cross died, Elena had renewed Preston Heartwell’s stewardship over the manor because he seemed disciplined, charming, and devoted to preserving the estate. Roman opposed the decision immediately.
“He saw hunger where I saw competence,” Elena admitted.
Roman did not deny it.
“He wanted ownership without buying it,” Roman said. “He wanted the Cross name without the Cross blood.”
Elena folded her hands. “And I wanted to believe I could guide him.”
The original lease had allowed Preston to host private events and manage restorations, but profits from certain areas and all charitable programming remained tied to the Cross Foundation. The new development package would change that. With Elena’s signature, Preston could lock the manor into a luxury-membership expansion for twenty years and gain access to a dormant restoration endowment.
“He’s not just chasing my blessing,” Elena said. “He’s chasing control.”
Iris frowned.
“Then why would Vanessa matter so much?”
Roman answered. “Because the engagement is strategic. Vanessa brings social capital, family connections, and a polished public face. Preston needs investors to believe the manor’s future is glamorous, youthful, and secure.”
“And obedient,” Elena added.
That last word stayed in the room.
Lydia spread a rough map of the estate on the table.
“If Henderson is telling the truth, he can get us two things. First, confirmation that Preston ordered the locker planted. Second, access to the archive room where Arthur’s original schedules may still be stored.”
Roman looked at Iris.
“I still think this is dangerous.”
Iris crossed her arms.
“Vanessa cut my face because she thought I was disposable. Preston framed me because he thought no one would care. If Henderson wants to talk, I want to hear him.”
Roman’s gaze held hers for a moment too long.
Then he nodded once.
That evening they drove to a closed riverside boathouse Preston once used for catering storage. Henderson emerged from the shadows already sweating.
He looked worse than guilty. He looked hunted.
“I opened the locker,” he blurted before anyone spoke. “Vanessa gave me the ring in a napkin. Preston told me cameras were already handled.”
“Handled how?” Lydia asked.
“The staff corridor feed was muted for twenty minutes. The ballroom backup too, but Mr. Cross somehow got the main recording.”
Roman said nothing.
Henderson swallowed.
“There’s more. Preston keeps old lease records and donor files in the manor archive behind the library. But he’s moving things tonight.”
“Why?” Elena asked.
Henderson’s answer came in a whisper.
“Because he found out the court ordered document preservation.”
Roman stepped forward.
“What is he trying to hide?”
Henderson pulled a security card from his pocket.
“The archive keypad opens with this, but only until midnight.”
He handed it to Iris, not Roman.
“Because she’s the one they won’t expect.”
Roman didn’t like that. It showed.
Neither did Iris.
Then tires crunched outside.
A black SUV turned into the lot.
Henderson’s face drained.
May you like
“He found me.”
And before anyone could reach him, Henderson ran into the dark.
