Chapter 5: The Cold Morning After
1158 Words
Scott POV
Saturday, October 15th [6:47 AM] Williams Penthouse, Manhattan
The coffee cup sat on the counter. Scott looked at it for three seconds, then looked away.
The coffee was cold. There was a lipstick mark on the rim.
The anniversary flowers next to it were starting to die, turning brown.
She had been there. She left everything just as it was, like a crime scene.
His phone buzzed at 11:47 PM last night. He answered it in the dark bedroom, alone.
Audrey's voice was steady but broken.
She didn't say anything useful before the call ended.
He tried calling her back forty-seven times.
None of them went through.
By midnight, the news story was out. It showed his picture with Elena. The time on it said 8:15 PM.
At the hotel on Fifth Avenue. His hand was on her back.
It was not true. He was with Audrey at 8:15 PM. They were at the penthouse when that photo was said to have been taken.
Someone used an old picture and changed the date.
Scott walked through the apartment as if it were not his own. Every room felt empty.
The bed was made. Her closet had empty spaces where clothes used to be.
She had planned this.
She was planning it before the flowers even got there.
His father called him at 2 AM. "The separation will be filed at 8 AM on Monday.
Elena's lawyers are taking care of it.
You need to be ready for what happens next."
Scott hung up without saying anything.
Now it was 6:47 AM on Saturday. He was in his security division's private archive room.
He was getting around his own access codes to look at family security videos from last night.
The lights above him made a low hum.
The building was empty.
Only the night shift was there, and they would leave in fifteen minutes.
He took the backup drive from the server. It was labeled "Penthouse Master Security. Restricted."
The files opened.
[21:03] Audrey enters the penthouse.
[21:47] Elena Chase enters the penthouse. She uses a second key card.
[22:15] Elena leaves the penthouse. Her car comes back.
[23:32-23:54] Files deleted. The deletion time was Oct 15, 04:32 AM.
Scott's jaw got tight. The time on the news photo was wrong.
But it was not an accident.
Someone matched it perfectly with the date his family planned to file the papers.
Someone who could get into security systems.
Someone with high-level access.
His own login information flashed red on the screen. It said, "RESTRICTED ACCESS FLAGGED. EXECUTIVE OVERRIDE REQUIRED."
He had fifteen minutes before his father got a message about access.
Thirteen minutes before, the system showed where he was.
Scott moved quickly. He took three backup drives from the archive.
These had not been copied to the main delete plan yet.
His hands were steady.
His breathing was not bad. He could feel the system closing in on him.
The moment he took that first drive, he stopped playing by his father's rules.
A security alert flashed red on the computer. It said, "UNAUTHORIZED ARCHIVE ACCESS. ALERT SENT TO EXECUTIVE DIVISION."
Seven minutes before someone came.
He played the backup files on a separate player. He watched the video get smaller.
The time Elena came in was 21:47.
That was forty minutes before he got home.
She was not surprised to be there. She was waiting.
He realized it clearly. This was not made up on the spot. Elena knew the penthouse would be empty.
She knew when Audrey would get there. She knew the security system would record it.
And she knew exactly when it would be deleted.
His phone vibrated. It was his father's assistant.
"Mr. Williams wants to know why you went into the private archives at 6:42 AM."
Scott did not answer. He unplugged the backup drives and put them in his jacket pocket.
Four minutes.
He went to the exit. He took the stairs, not the elevator. He thought the building's network had been hacked.
The stairwell cameras were old, probably not watched after hours.
But he couldn't be sure it was safe.
His phone buzzed. It wasn't his dad's assistant. It was an unknown number.
The message said: "You're looking in the right direction, but you're running out of time."
Scott stopped on the stairs between the seventeenth and sixteenth floors.
He grabbed the railing.
The message could mean many things. Maybe someone was helping him.
Maybe someone was watching him.
Maybe they wanted him to hurry up or slow down.
He went the rest of the way down the stairs to the ground-floor exit.
The parking garage was empty. His car was in its spot. He got in and started the car before closing the door.
He backed out so fast the tires squealed a little.
When he got to the street, his phone rang. It was his mom.
"Scott, your dad wants you to come to the office. He needs to talk about the divorce plan before Monday."
"I'm not coming."
"You don't have a choice. You signed the papers. You know how this goes."
He knew exactly how it worked. That was the problem.
"Where's Audrey?" he asked.
His mom paused for too long. "We're not dealing with that right now."
"That's not an answer."
"No, it's not. Because you don't need to know."
Scott hung up.
He drove toward the Upper West Side without really deciding to go there.
He felt pulled to the other house.
Audrey bought it years ago when she thought she could build something separate from his family's control.
He never asked how she paid for it.
He didn't want to know.
If he knew, he would understand she planned to leave even before they got married.
His phone screen went black at a red light. It didn't crash or freeze. The screen just turned off.
When it came back on, one message showed up on the screen.
It was white text on a black background:
"Stop looking into your marriage, Scott. You weren't supposed to ask questions about how things were set up.
Your family has already won.
Now you just have to decide if you try to save Audrey and fail, or let her go and survive."
Below the message, a picture showed up. It was Audrey at the other house, in the study.
She was looking at photos on a desk.
The picture was from 11:47 PM last night.
That was four minutes before she called him.
Four minutes before she hung up.
Someone was there. Someone showed her everything.
Scott squeezed the steering wheel. His fingers went numb.
The light turned green. No one honked. The street crossing was empty. The whole city felt empty.
His phone buzzed one last time.
A location. An address. And four words: "Get there before they do."
The address was the other house.
Scott sped through the green light without looking.
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