Chapter 10 - Betrayal in the Boardroom and the Poisoned Trap Set for the Cavanaugh Heirs
The annual Cavanaugh Winter Gala was the most prestigious social event in the state. Over three hundred elite guests—senators, foreign dignitaries, corporate moguls—gathered in the grand ballroom of Fairhaven Manor, which had been transformed into a winter wonderland of crystal chandeliers, white orchids, and live classical orchestras.
Julian had spared no expense, using the evening to announce a multi-billion-dollar green infrastructure merger that would secure the Cavanaugh dynasty for generations.
The four of us were dressed in tailored black tuxedos. But we didn't mingle with the pretentious socialites; we stayed close to Eleanor, who looked breathtaking in an elegant, modest navy evening gown.
However, danger had not left Fairhaven.
Julian’s chief corporate partner and long-time family friend, Arthur Sterling—Carter’s father—had suffered massive financial losses after Mason leaked evidence of Sterling’s illegal market manipulation following the school precinct incident. Facing total ruin, Sterling had orchestrated a desperate, lethal coup.
Around 10:00 PM, while Julian was on the stage delivering his keynote speech, Mason noticed an anomaly on his handheld security console.
“Lucas,” Mason whispered, pulling me toward the shadowed alcove near the grand staircase. “The catering staff in the private VIP lounge... three of them aren't on the official agency roster. Their credentials were forged through Sterling’s private server.”
My blood ran cold. “Where is Toby?”
“Eleanor took him upstairs to the nursery ten minutes ago to get away from the loud music,” Ethan said, panic creeping into his voice.
“Mason, cut the power to the VIP wing! Ethan, find father’s head of security!” I ordered, already sprinting toward the East Wing stairs.
When I reached the second-floor gallery, the heavy oak double doors leading to the family quarters were cracked open. The ornate wall sconces were flickering erratically.
Inside the nursery corridor, two men dressed as catering servers were holding suppressed handguns, moving silently toward Toby’s bedroom door.
Before they could reach the handle, Eleanor stepped out of the shadows of the linen alcove, holding a heavy brass fire extinguisher.
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With a fierce cry, she swung the heavy cylinder into the lead gunman’s ribs, sending him crashing into the wall. The second gunman lunged forward, grabbing Eleanor by the throat and throwing her violently across the hardwood floor.
“Eleanor!” I screamed, throwing myself into the corridor.
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