Chapter 3 - The Secret Ronan Buried
Ronan arrived eleven minutes later.
Ivy knew because she watched the clock.
Not the window.
He had ordered her away from the windows.
She resented that she had listened.
Marcus entered first with two security officers. They checked every room, the service hallway, stairwell, elevator cameras, and roof access.
Ronan entered last.
He wore black trousers and a charcoal shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms.
No coat.
No tie.
No patience.
His gaze found Ivy immediately.
“You’re all right?”
“Yes.”
“Noah?”
“I’m fine,” Noah said.
Ronan nodded.
Then he looked at the envelope lying beneath an overturned glass bowl Marcus had placed over it.
“Who touched it?”
“No one.”
“Good.”
Ivy folded her arms.
“Now tell me about Elena.”
Marcus stopped moving.
That was enough to confirm the name mattered.
Ronan looked toward Noah.
Ivy understood.
“Noah, can you give us a minute?”
Her brother’s eyebrows rose.
“You’re asking me to leave you alone with terrifying billionaire Batman?”
Ronan almost smiled.
“Marcus can stay.”
“That somehow makes it worse.”
Ivy gave Noah a look.
He sighed.
“Fine. I’ll be in the kitchen pretending walls aren’t thin.”
When he left, Ivy faced Ronan.
“Well?”
Ronan walked toward the windows but stopped several feet away.
For a moment, he seemed to search for a version of the story he could tolerate saying aloud.
“Elena Ruiz worked for my family twelve years ago.”
“What kind of work?”
“Housekeeping.”
Ivy’s expression changed.
Ronan noticed.
“She was twenty-four. Smart. Stubborn. She was studying accounting at night.”
“Like me.”
“Yes.”
The answer came quietly.
Ivy sat on the edge of the sofa.
“What happened?”
“My father was still alive then.”
Everyone in the city knew some version of Victor Blackwood’s story.
Industrialist.
Political donor.
Brilliant businessman.
Rumored criminal kingmaker.
Dead at fifty-eight from a heart attack.
Ronan looked at his hands.
“My father believed loyalty meant silence.”
Ivy waited.
“Elena discovered money was being moved through one of our construction companies. Payments to shell corporations. Bribes. Kickbacks.”
“Your father?”
“I don’t know if he personally ordered them.”
“You never found out?”
“I tried.”
Ronan’s jaw tightened.
“Elena came to me first.”
“How old were you?”
“Twenty-two.”
Ivy looked surprised.
“I thought I could handle it.”
“What did you do?”
“I confronted my father.”
A bitter smile touched his mouth.
“That was my first mistake.”
“What was the second?”
“I told him Elena had the documents.”
Ivy went still.
Ronan met her eyes.
“Three nights later, she died in a car crash.”
The apartment seemed suddenly quieter.
“Was it an accident?”
“The police said it was.”
“You don’t believe them.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the documents disappeared.”
Ivy looked toward the envelope.
“And you think someone killed her.”
“I think someone made sure she never spoke.”
Ronan paced slowly.
“My father denied involvement until the day he died. Afterward, I spent years dismantling people around him. Companies. Attorneys. Security contractors. Politicians.”
“You became what people are afraid of.”
Ronan looked at her.
“Maybe.”
“No.”
He frowned.
Ivy chose her words.
“You became powerful enough that people stopped being able to hide things from you.”
“That’s generous.”
“It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”
That actually made him smile.
Only briefly.
Ivy pointed toward the envelope.
“Why would someone send Elena’s name to me?”
“That’s what worries me.”
“Could Vivienne know?”
Ronan was silent.
“Ronan.”
“Yes.”
Ivy stood.
“How?”
“My father knew her family.”
“What family?”
“Hale.”
Ivy stared.
“Vivienne’s father worked with yours?”
“Andrew Hale was his attorney.”
The pieces shifted.
“What happened to him?”
“Retired.”
“Convenient.”
“He lives in Switzerland.”
“Even more convenient.”
Ronan walked toward the envelope.
“Vivienne has known about Elena for years.”
“And you still got engaged to her?”
The question came sharper than Ivy intended.
Ronan looked at her.
She did not take it back.
“I didn’t know how much she knew.”
“That sounds different.”
“It is.”
“Explain.”
Ronan sat across from her.
“When my father died, Andrew Hale handed over boxes of private records. He said he wanted the past buried. Vivienne and I had known each other since childhood. Years later, when we started seeing each other, I believed she was separate from her father.”
“Were you in love with her?”
The question surprised both of them.
Ivy looked away.
“You don’t have to answer.”
“I thought I was.”
Ronan’s voice was quiet.
“Then why didn’t you set a wedding date?”
“I told you. Something felt wrong.”
“Feeling isn’t evidence.”
“No.”
His gaze held hers.
“But yesterday was.”
Marcus approached from the hallway.
“We have the building footage.”
Ronan stood.
“Show me.”
Marcus opened a tablet.
A camera showed the twenty-third-floor corridor.
At 9:18 a.m., a person wearing a delivery uniform stepped from the emergency stairwell.
Cap low.
Face partially hidden.
The figure walked toward Ivy’s apartment, knocked, then moved out of camera range.
Thirty seconds later, the envelope slid beneath the door.
Then the person returned to the stairwell.
Marcus froze the image.
Ivy leaned closer.
“Can you see the face?”
“No.”
Ronan looked at the shoes.
“Zoom.”
Marcus enlarged the image.
Black sneakers.
White stitching.
Nothing distinctive.
Ivy suddenly frowned.
“Wait.”
Ronan looked at her.
“What?”
“The person knocked and called my name using Emily’s voice.”
Marcus nodded.
“Correct.”
“That means they knew Emily.”
“Or recorded her.”
Ivy’s expression changed.
She grabbed her phone.
“I need to call her.”
Emily answered on the fourth ring.
“Ivy?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Where are you?”
“At the catering office.”
“Did anybody talk to you this morning?”
A pause.
“Some reporter.”
Ivy exchanged a look with Ronan.
“What reporter?”
“I don’t know. A woman. She said she wanted my version of what happened.”
“Did you speak to her?”
“Only for a minute. I told her I didn’t want an interview.”
“Did she record you?”
“I don’t know.”
Ivy closed her eyes.
That was probably enough.
“What did she ask?”
“She asked whether you knew Mr. Blackwood before last night.”
“I didn’t.”
“I told her that.”
“Anything else?”
Emily hesitated.
“She asked whether you had ever talked about wanting to marry rich.”
Noah shouted from the kitchen.
“What?”
Ivy pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Anything else?”
“She asked about your family.”
Ronan’s expression hardened.
“Emily, listen carefully. Don’t leave the office alone.”
“Why?”
“I’ll explain later.”
After ending the call, Ivy turned to Ronan.
“This is not random.”
“No.”
“Vivienne?”
“Possibly.”
“That means probably.”
Ronan looked toward Marcus.
“Get someone to Emily.”
Marcus left.
Ivy stared at the city.
“This was supposed to be a catering accident.”
Ronan approached but kept a respectful distance.
“I know.”
“Now reporters know where my brothers go to school.”
“We’ll protect them.”
She turned sharply.
“I don’t want protection forever.”
“You won’t need it forever.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I intend to end this.”
The certainty in his voice should have reassured her.
Instead, it frightened her slightly.
“What does ending it mean to you?”
Ronan understood the question.
“No one is getting buried in concrete.”
Ivy blinked.
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I was absolutely thinking it.”
A small smile passed between them.
Then Ronan’s phone rang.
He answered.
“Blackwood.”
His expression changed.
“When?”
Silence.
“Send it.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” Ivy asked.
Ronan looked at her.
“Vivienne just gave an interview.”
“Of course she did.”
“She claims you attacked her first.”
Ivy stared.
“With what?”
“A serving tray.”
“That never happened.”
“I know.”
“She says she defended herself.”
“Apparently.”
Ivy laughed in disbelief.
“And people believe her?”
“Some will.”
Ronan’s phone chimed.
He opened the video.
Vivienne appeared on-screen outside a hotel, wearing oversized sunglasses and a cream coat.
Her voice trembled beautifully.
“I regret that a private misunderstanding became public. I was frightened. Miss Lancaster behaved aggressively toward me after I asked her to address a service issue. I reacted defensively.”
Ivy’s stomach turned.
Vivienne continued.
“My former fiancé has known Miss Lancaster longer than he admitted.”
Ronan froze the video.
Ivy looked at him.
“That’s a lie.”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you look like that?”
Ronan replayed the last sentence.
My former fiancé has known Miss Lancaster longer than he admitted.
He looked at Ivy.
“She’s not talking about you.”
“What?”
“She’s planting something.”
Before Ivy could ask more, Marcus returned.
His face was grim.
“We found another message.”
“Where?”
“Your office.”
Ronan took the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
This one was old.
Very old.
A young woman stood outside Blackwood Manor wearing a housekeeping uniform.
Elena Ruiz.
Beside her was another woman.
Fuller figure.
Dark curly hair.
Warm smile.
Ivy stopped breathing.
“No.”
Ronan looked at her.
“You know her?”
Ivy reached for the photograph with shaking fingers.
The second woman was twenty years younger than Ivy remembered her.
But there was no mistake.
“My mother.”
Ronan stared at her.
“What?”
Ivy looked at the back.
A handwritten date.
Fourteen years earlier.
Her voice broke.
“My mother worked here.”
Ronan looked genuinely shocked.
“I never knew.”
“She told us she cleaned offices downtown.”
Noah appeared from the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?”
Ivy handed him the photograph.
His face changed.
“That’s Mom.”
The room fell silent.
Ronan looked again at Elena.
Then at Ivy’s mother.
“Her name?”
“Sarah Lancaster.”
Ronan swore under his breath.
“You know it.”
“Yes.”
Ivy stepped toward him.
“How?”
Ronan looked suddenly pale.
“Because Sarah Lancaster was the last person Elena called before she died.”
Noah stared at him.
Ivy felt the floor shift beneath her.
“What are you saying?”
Ronan spoke slowly.
“Your mother may have known what Elena discovered.”
Ivy remembered her mother’s final years.
The sudden move across town.
The fear whenever unknown cars parked outside.
The envelope she once burned in the kitchen sink.
The way she refused to explain why.
Sarah Lancaster had died from cancer eight years later.
Ivy had believed whatever secrets she carried died with her.
Now she was not sure.
Ronan looked at the old photograph again.
“If your mother kept anything…”
Ivy finished the thought.
“Someone thinks I have it.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Marcus’s phone.
He answered.
His expression hardened.
“What?”
Everyone looked at him.
He lowered the phone.
“The foundation was broken into last night.”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed.
“What was taken?”
“Nothing we can tell.”
“Then why break in?”
Marcus hesitated.
“They searched archived employee records.”
Ivy already knew the answer before he spoke.
May you like
Marcus looked directly at her.
“Specifically, Sarah Lancaster’s.”
