Chapter 1 - The Boy Who Fell Down the Golden StaircaseThe woman's hand slammed into the six-year-old boy's back.
"Get away from me!"
Eli Ward barely had time to scream.
One moment, his small black shoes were planted on the upper landing of his grandfather's magnificent staircase.
The next, the floor disappeared beneath him.
His cream-white shirt flashed against the dark-brown carpet as he tumbled down the steps.
His shoulder struck first.
Then his hip.
Then his head narrowly missed the carved wooden railing.
"Eli!"
The scream came from the mansion's entrance.
Richard Ward stood beneath the crystal chandelier, frozen in disbelief.
At sixty-five, Richard was a man accustomed to controlling every room he entered. His broad shoulders, silver-gray hair, and perfectly tailored black overcoat gave him the appearance of someone who had never needed to ask permission.
But nothing in his life had prepared him for the sight of his grandson falling down his own staircase.
Eli hit the lower landing with a muffled thud.
For one horrifying second, he didn't move.
Then he began crying.
"Grandpa!"
Richard ran.
Behind him, Owen Ellis, the family's longtime security guard, stopped near the enormous wooden entrance doors.
Outside, a black luxury sedan remained parked in the circular driveway.
Richard dropped to his knees beside the boy.
"Don't move, sweetheart. Look at me."
Eli's brown eyes were wide with terror.
He raised both hands toward his face, as though expecting another blow.
Richard noticed.
Something inside him turned cold.
"Eli, it's Grandpa. You're safe."
The boy recognized his voice.
His trembling fingers caught Richard's sleeve.
"She pushed me."
Richard looked up.
At the top of the staircase stood Claire Ward.
Thirty-five years old, elegant and striking, with long chestnut-brown hair cascading over her fitted burgundy evening dress, she looked as though she had stepped out of a society magazine.
Her expression was anything but beautiful.
"That little brat was running around like an animal," she snapped.
Richard stared at her.
"What did you do?"
Claire descended several steps.
"He tripped. I tried to stop him."
Eli shook his head violently.
"No!"
"Be quiet, Eli."
The command came so sharply that the child flinched.
Richard felt the movement against his arm.
It was small.
Almost invisible.
But it told him more than Claire's words.
"Don't speak to him again," Richard said.
Claire laughed without humor.
"Oh, please. You have no idea what dealing with him is like."
Richard carefully checked whether Eli could move his fingers and toes.
The boy could, but he cried when Richard touched his left arm.
"Something hurts," Eli whispered.
"I know. I'm getting help."
Richard reached for his phone.
Claire hurried down the remaining steps.
"You're being ridiculous. Children fall."
Richard looked at her.
"Children don't usually fall after telling someone they've been pushed."
She stepped closer.
"Are you calling me a liar?"
"I'm calling an ambulance."
Claire grabbed his wrist.
"You're not going to turn this into some ridiculous investigation."
Richard pulled free.
"Get your hands off me."
But Claire was no longer watching Richard.
She was watching Eli.
The boy immediately hid his face.
And then she said something that made Richard's blood run cold.
"You'd better think very carefully about what you say next."
Richard stood.
"Enough."
Claire stepped directly into his path.
"You think because you're rich, you can frighten everyone in this family?"
"Move."
"Your son is going to hear about this."
"Move away from the child."
Claire lifted her chin.
"Or what?"
Richard's open hand struck her cheek.
The sound cracked through the enormous entrance hall.
Claire staggered backward.
Her long brown hair whipped across her face as she lost her footing and collapsed onto the lower carpeted stairs.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Richard stared at his own hand.
The shock arrived almost immediately.
He had spent his adult life insisting that anger was never an excuse for losing control.
And now, in front of his frightened grandson, he had broken his own rule.
Claire slowly looked up.
A red mark spread across her cheek.
Then something strange happened.
She smiled.
Not broadly.
Not triumphantly.
Just enough for Richard to notice.
"You shouldn't have done that," she whispered.
Richard didn't answer.
He turned toward Eli.
The little boy was crying harder now.
Richard bent beside him again.
"I'm sorry you had to see that."
He called emergency services and gave the dispatcher the facts, including the slap.
Following the dispatcher's instructions, he kept Eli still while they waited for paramedics.
Eli clung desperately to his arm.
"Please don't leave me here."
"I won't."
"Promise?"
Richard leaned closer.
"I promise."
From the front doorway came a faint electronic chime.
Owen had lowered his phone.
Richard looked toward him.
The security guard avoided his eyes.
A moment later, Claire struggled to her feet and reached beneath the folds of her burgundy dress.
She removed her phone.
Her fingers moved quickly over the screen.
Richard watched her.
"Who are you texting?"
Claire didn't look up.
"Your son."
Outside, distant sirens began to rise.
Richard returned his attention to Eli, who was staring toward the upper landing.
The boy's lips trembled.
"Grandpa?"
"I'm here."
"She knew you were coming."
Richard frowned.
"What?"
Eli swallowed.
"She said you would get angry."
A chill passed through Richard.
"Who said that?"
The boy looked toward Claire.
Then toward Owen.
May you like
And finally back at his grandfather.
"She said everybody would see."
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