Chapter 5 - The Standing Man
Maeve stumbled backward, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a gasp. Her legs felt weak beneath her.
The man who was supposed to be permanently paralyzed, the man who doctors claimed would never walk again, stood tall and imposing, towering over her by half a foot. There was no brace on his left leg that required assistance, no tremor of weakness, no sign of physical infirmity whatsoever. His posture was rigid, his gaze sharp, and his presence terrifyingly absolute.
“You—!” Maeve choked out, pointing a trembling finger at him. “You’re... you can walk!”
“Of course I can walk,” Elias said smoothly, taking a slow step toward her. His voice carried a dangerous, quiet authority. “A minor accident on Lower Wacker Drive resulted in some bruised ribs and a stiff knee. Recovery took forty-eight hours. The rest was... an exercise in information gathering.”
“An exercise?” Maeve stared at him in disbelief, her mind racing as the horrifying scale of the deception became clear. “You faked your paralysis? Why would you do something like that?”
“To answer a very simple question,” Elias replied, stopping a few feet away from her. He towered over her, his dark suit accentuating his commanding frame. “When you spend your life surrounded by people who want your money, your influence, or your protection, you learn to test the foundation of every relationship. Salvatore warned me that power blinds you to true affection. So, I removed the power. I took away the illusion of strength.”
He gestured vaguely toward the wheelchair behind him.
“I wanted to see who would stay when the room got smaller. Sienna failed that test within twenty-four hours. Her mother began plotting an exit strategy before the ink on my medical chart was dry. They thought they were clever, orchestrating this little charade with you as the messenger.”
Maeve’s shock quickly turned into a flash of hot anger. She had risked her safety, humiliated herself, and walked into the lion’s den—all for a grand psychological experiment orchestrated by a paranoid billionaire.
“So I’m just a pawn in your little game?” Maeve snapped, her fear momentarily forgotten beneath a wave of indignation. “You watched me squirm, you watched me terrify myself coming into this fortress, just to test your own cynical theories about human nature? That’s sick, Mr. Marchetti!”
Elias didn’t flinch at her outburst. In fact, a faint, appreciative glint appeared in his grey eyes. Most people cowered when he raised his voice or displayed his power. This young housekeeper, wearing her employer’s coat and fighting for her brother’s life, was standing her ground and calling him out.
“It is pragmatic,” Elias corrected calmly. “And as for your brother’s surgery—how much do the Ashfords owe the hospital?”
Maeve blinked, thrown off balance by the sudden shift in topic. “Thirty-five thousand dollars. Why?”
Elias turned, walked back to a sleek mahogany desk near the back of the solarium, opened a drawer, and pulled out a checkbook and a golden pen. He scribbled something swiftly, tore the paper from the book, and walked back over to her.
He held out the check. Maeve looked down at it, her eyes widening. The amount written was fifty thousand dollars—more than enough for the surgery, with enough left over for post-operative care.
“Take it,” Elias said, holding the check out toward her.
Maeve hesitated, her hand hovering over the paper. “What’s the catch? I’m not playing any more of your games, Mr. Marchetti.”
“There is no game,” Elias replied quietly, his tone softening just a fraction. “You told the truth. You stood in front of a man you believed to be a dangerous, disabled crime boss, and you defended your integrity while protecting your brother. That is worth far more than fifty thousand dollars in a city like Chicago.”
Maeve slowly took the check from his hand, her fingers brushing his. The paper felt real. The numbers were real.
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“Why are you doing this?” she asked, looking up into his intense eyes.
“Because,” Elias said, turning his onyx ring around his finger once more, “you passed a test you didn't even know you were taking. And now, Miss Donnelly, our business together is just beginning.”
