Chapter 4 - Walter's Warning
Two days after the incident in the study, Maya found herself working in the expansive rear gardens, weeding the flowerbeds near the old boathouse. The afternoon sun was warm, and the rhythmic sound of cicadas provided a soothing backdrop to her physical labor.
Footsteps crunched softly on the gravel path behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Walter Reed walking slowly toward her, carrying a pair of pruning shears and a galvanized watering can.
"You're working too hard, girl," Walter said, tipping his straw hat back. "This southern heat doesn't care how fast those flowerbeds get cleaned."
Maya smiled, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist. "If I don't finish these beds before Friday, Miss Sinclair will find a weed and tell Mr. Cole I'm neglecting the estate."
Walter let out a low, gravelly chuckle, pulling up a wooden stool and sitting down near the edge of the flowerbed. He looked around to ensure no one else was within earshot before leaning in closer.
"She keeps you on edge, doesn't she?" Walter asked quietly.
"It's just a job, Walter. I need the paycheck for my brother and sister," Maya replied, keeping her eyes focused on the soil.
"I know all about needing a paycheck," Walter said softly. "And I know why you put up with her games. But you need to be careful, Maya. That woman isn't what she pretends to be."
Maya stopped pulling weeds and turned to face the older groundskeeper. "What do you mean?"
Walter sighed, resting his pruning shears across his knees. "I’ve worked on this estate for twenty-two years. I worked for Mr. Cole’s father before him. I’ve seen girlfriends come and go, gold-diggers try to crack the safe, and social climbers try to wear the family crest. But Victoria... she’s different. Or rather, she’s entirely manufactured."
"Mr. Cole told me they met at a children's hospital fundraiser," Maya recalled. "She was volunteering with art classes."
"That’s the story she sold him," Walter corrected, a cynical glint in his weathered eyes. "Three years ago, right after Nathaniel’s company went public and his net worth hit the headlines, Victoria just happened to show up at every charity event he sponsored. She cultivated the image of a sweet, selfless angel from a modest background in Columbia. Then, right before he proposed, the 'tragic riding accident' happened."
Maya’s breath caught in her throat. "A riding accident?"
"That’s what they told the press," Walter murmured. "A freak accident on a rented horse in Aiken, resulting in a spinal cord injury and permanent paralysis. The doctors at the private clinic in Zurich confirmed it—or at least, that’s what the medical reports submitted to Nathaniel stated."
"Submitted... by whom?" Maya asked, a cold chill washing over her despite the warm September sun.
"By Victoria’s personal physician, a doctor from out of state whom Nathaniel had never met before the engagement," Walter said significantly. "And ever since then, she’s had an excuse to never leave the estate, never travel without her wheelchair, and keep Nathaniel entirely dependent on her emotional fragility."
Maya stared at Walter, the puzzle pieces violently snapping together in her mind. The fake drops, the miraculous recovery when no one was looking, the intense anger whenever Maya entered a room unannounced—Victoria wasn't just a difficult fiancée; she was maintaining an elaborate, multi-million-dollar fraud designed to lock down a billionaire’s estate for life.
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"Does Mr. Cole have any idea?" Maya whispered.
"Not yet," Walter said, standing up and dusting off his work pants. "Men like Nathaniel believe in loyalty because they are loyal themselves. It’s hard for a good man to fathom that someone he loves could look him in the eye and lie every single second of every single day. But truth has a funny way of coming out, Maya. You just have to make sure you're standing clear when the roof caves in."
