Beyond The Ethics:

Chapter 2: Sarah's desperate gamble

Sarah's POV

I stood frozen in the hallway, the weight of Mr Albright's words crushing me Months. David had been planning this for months.

The man who shared my bed, who ate meals with our daughter, had been quietly setting the stage for my destruction, I felt sick.

My phone felt heavy in my hand. I opened the banking app again, hoping against hope the numbers had changed. They hadn't, $87.42. The digital display seemed to mock me.

I could almost hear David's voice whispering, "See? You're nothing without me."

I stumbled out of the building into the bright afternoon sun. The world moved around me people chatting on phones, cars honking, life going on as if mine hadn't just ended.

I found a bench in a small park across the street and collapsed onto it, my legs giving way beneath me.

Tears blurred my vision as I opened my photo gallery. Chloe's face filled the screen her seventh birthday party, surrounded by pink balloons and beaming with that gap-toothed smile that always made my heart ache with love.

In another picture, she was fast asleep, her small hand curled around her favorite teddy bear, completely trusting that her world was safe.

"I'm so sorry, baby," I whispered, my thumb gently tracing her image on the cold screen.

"Mommy is trying so hard."

The memories of my life with David came rushing in, each one a fresh wound. David's cold expression when I'd told him I wanted to go back to work.

"Why would you need a job?" he'd asked, his voice dangerously calm.

"Am I not providing enough?"

My phone vibrated in my hand, startling me, Albright's name flashed on the screen.

"Sarah? I just got off the phone with Marcus Thorne's office."

"He can see you this afternoon, but you need to go now. He's making time between appointments."

My throat tightened. "His fees... I saw online what he charges for just a consultation..."

"Sarah, listen to me." Mr. Albright's voice was gentle but firm.

"Just go explain your situation, he's a difficult man, but he's fair. And right now, he's your only chance." He concluded.

The call ended, leaving me in suffocating silence. I looked down at Chloe's photo again, at those innocent eyes that believed her mother could move mountains.

I thought of all the pieces of myself I had surrendered over the years my dreams, my friends, my career. I couldn't surrender my daughter too.

I took a deep, shuddering breath. "Okay, my love." I said softly. "For you."

Making a tough decision, I waved a cab down.

“Ivory tower." I called and the cab driver nodded.

The cab pulled away from the curb heading towards ivory tower, and I watched my old life disappear through the window.

Every familiar shop, every smiling face felt like a memory I was losing forever.

"Eighty-seven dollars." I whispered to the empty cab.

"How do I save my daughter with nothing?"

I scrolled through my photos until I found Chloe's smiling face from last week's school play.

Her bright eyes stared back at me, full of trust.

"Mommy will fix this, baby." I promised her picture, my voice breaking.

My married life memories hit me like physical blows.

"You're seeing your sister again?" David's voice was dangerously calm.

"After I told you not to?" He muttered

"She's my sister, David! She's family!"

"I'm your family!" he roared, slamming his hand on the table.

"Me and Chloe! That's all the family you need!"

Then another memory sharper and more painful.

"You want to go back to that pathetic little art gallery?" David had laughed without humor.

"Why? Don't I give you everything?"

"It's not about what you give me! It's about having something that's mine!"

"Everything you have is mine." he replied coldly. "Including you."

"Who is she?" I remember asking david, holding up his phone with the text messages. My hands shook so badly I could barely read them.

He hadn't even flinched. "You stopped being interesting years ago, Sarah. What did you expect?"

"I gave up everything for you! My dreams, my friends, my life!"

"And you were better for it," he said calmly. "Until you forgot your place."

"Ma'am? We're here."

The driver's voice startled me out of my memories. I handed him the last of my cash, watching my safety net disappear.

A security guard directed me to an elevator that whisked me silently to the 45th floor.

The doors opened to a waiting room so pristine it felt sterile. Everything was shades of white and silver, with modern art on the walls that probably cost more than i may ever worth.

A quiet spoken man asked to sit, while they inform Marcus office of my arrival.

"Mrs Vance?" A woman emerged from a hidden doorway few minutes later, her black dress crisp and perfect.

"Mr Thorne will see you now."

I nodded politely, and rode the elevator to his office.

His office took my breath away. An entire wall of glass framed the city sprawled out below us.

Marcus Thorne stood with his back to me, silhouetted against the skyline.

When he turned, his blue eyes seemed to see straight through me, the eyes I would never forget.

"Sarah?" His voice hadn't changed in ten years.

"Marcus?" The air left my lungs. "I didn't...."

His eyes widened for just a second before his expression went carefully blank and gestured to the seat in front of him.

"Mrs Vance, please Sit."

We'd been in love once. Deeply, very in love then one day, he vanished. No call, no note. Just gone, leaving me broken.

"I understand you're in some trouble." He said his voice carefully neutral.

"My husband is trying to destroy me." I said the words tasting like ash.

"He's taken everything, and now he wants our daughter."

Marcus studied me, his gaze intense. "My retainer is fifty thousand dollars. My hourly rate would drain what little you have in minutes."

"I know," I whispered. "But I have nowhere else to go."

He was quiet for a long moment. "I remember your dreams Sarah." he said softly.

"You were always painting, always dreaming. You wanted to open a gallery, what brought you into this mess?."

"That girl died a long time ago." I replied quietly, lowering my eyelids.

He slid a document across the desk.

"This says we keep this professional, no personal contact, if we cross that line, your husband will use it to destroy us both."

My hand shook as I signed.The pen felt like a weapon in my hand.

"The retainer is waived," he said quietly.

"We'll deal with money later. Right now, let's focus on keeping your daughter safe."

"Thank you, Marcus," I said, my voice thick with emotions I couldn't name.

He walked me to the elevator. "We'll get through this, Sarah."

As the doors began to close, our eyes met one last time. Then I saw him Frank, David's driver, standing in the lobby below. He lifted his phone, snapped a clear picture of me through the glass elevator, and gave me a cold, triumphant smile.

The doors sealed shut.

My blood turned to ice.

David knew, he knew I was here.

He knew I'd hired Marcus.

But as the elevator descended, I realized something much worse Frank hadn't been trying to hide. He wanted me to see him.

Which could only mean one thing David wasn't just watching me anymore.

He was sending a message.