Chapter 3 - The Golden Trap
In the River Oaks penthouse that had once been mine, Eddie Hargrove stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass, staring out at the Houston skyline as dusk turned the smog into bruised purple and rust.
"Eddie, darling, the caterers need a final count on the Maine lobster tails by five," Paige called from the dining room.
Her voice had an edge now that Eddie hadn't noticed when she was sitting across from him in the executive suite, taking shorthand and bringing him his espresso with two drops of almond milk. Back then, her voice had been soft, deferential, a balm against his father’s relentless, crushing expectations.
Now, her voice sounded like a drill bit against concrete.
"Order whatever you want, Paige," Eddie said without turning around.
"It’s not about what I want," she replied, her heels clicking across the herringbone oak floor. She stopped behind him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. Her nails were manicured in deep oxblood, digging slightly through the fabric of his cashmere sweater. "It’s about what looks right for the firm. Your father said the governor is bringing six delegates. We cannot look like we’re cutting corners."
"We’re spending four million dollars on a three-hour ceremony," Eddie said flatly. "I don't think anyone is going to accuse us of cutting corners."
Paige stiffened. He felt the tension run through her fingers before she pulled her hands back.
"This is Hunter's future, Eddie. Everything we do now sets the stage for when he takes over the trust. Your father was very clear about that."
*Hunter.*
Eddie closed his eyes. Every time Paige said the boy’s name, it sounded like a legal argument rather than an expression of affection.
The baby was three months old, housed in a nursery that looked like a boutique hotel suite, cared for by two night nurses and a developmental specialist whom Paige had flown in from Zurich. When Eddie held him, he felt... nothing. Just a cold, leaden weight of obligation. The boy didn't look like him. He had fair, reddish hair and pale blue eyes that darted around rooms with an anxious, twitchy energy. Edmund Sr. insisted the boy had the "Hargrove brow," but Eddie had spent three decades looking in the mirror, and he knew his own blood.
There was no echo of himself in that crib.
"Have you seen the draft of the prenup?" Eddie asked, turning around slowly.
Paige’s expression smoothed instantly into the sweet, hurt pout she used whenever money entered the conversation. "Harrison sent it over. I have to say, Eddie, I was a little surprised. After everything we've built, after Hunter..."
"My father insisted on it," Eddie lied smoothly. Edmund Sr. *had* insisted, but Eddie had secretly instructed Harrison to make the clauses even more restrictive than the ones Caroline had signed.
*Caroline.*
The thought of her hit him like an open-hand slap, sharp and sudden.
It had been ten months. Ten months since she had walked out of that conference room with her head high, her spine straight, not shedding a single tear while his father treated her like an inconvenient line item. She hadn't fought. She hadn't made a scene. She hadn't called the press.
She had simply taken the pen, signed her name, and vanished.
The twelve million had cleared. Harrison had tracked the initial transfer to an account in Austin, but within forty-eight hours, the funds had been dispersed through seven different holding accounts and disappeared into the ether. She had surrendered her phone, deleted her social media, and sold her car. It was as if Caroline Vance Hargrove had never existed at all.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night when Paige was asleep beside him and the penthouse was silent save for the hum of the air filtration system, Eddie would sit in the dark and wonder where she was.
He had loved her. In his weak, diluted way, he had loved her more than he had ever loved anyone. But loving Caroline meant standing up to his father, and Eddie had been trained from birth to understand that his father’s approval was the only currency that kept him from being ordinary.
"Your father is coming over at seven," Paige said, snapping him back to the room. "He wants to review the seating chart for the dais. He wants the oil executives on the left and the banking consortium on the right."
"Fine," Eddie said.
"And Eddie?" She paused at the entrance to the hallway, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Make sure you wear the blue suit he likes. He’s been irritable lately. The doctors changed his heart medication again, and he doesn't need to be aggravated."
"I know how to handle my father, Paige."
"Do you?" she asked, with a smile that was entirely teeth. "Because from where I'm sitting, darling, it looks like I'm the one who gave him what he wanted."
She turned and walked away, her heels striking the floor like hammer blows.
May you like
Eddie turned back to the glass. Outside, the lights of Houston glittered like cold diamonds scattered across black velvet. He pressed his forehead against the cold pane, feeling smaller than he had ever felt in his life.
***
