Page 107 of Ethan & Grace

Holy shit!

I tapped Grace on the shoulder and pushed the document I’d just found towards her.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Is that . . . ?”

“Yep,” I replied. It was proof of an illegal transfer of two million pounds from a Swiss account, made at the end of last year. The recipient wasn’t listed, but the discovery only made me more suspicious of Claude.

“Take a photo,” Grace instructed.

I pulled out my phone as she frantically searched through the remaining papers. She found a few older, also seemingly illegal transactions, some going to the same account, others to different ones. Some of these transfers—clearly bribe money—went back years, which didn’t surprise me. Men like Claude Asterdam and my dad hadn’t become filthy rich through moral superiority. It sucked, but that’s how our capitalist society worked. There were no ethical millionaires, and certainly no ethical billionaires.

“Let’s get out of here,” I urged after photographing the important documents. We’d already been gone for far too long. I was certain that by now, Henry and James would have at least noticed our absence. Although we hadn’t found anything about the sold Rolls-Royce, I hoped we had enough evidence to bring our investigations to a close.

We hurriedly returned the papers to the secret compartment, pressed it shut, and replaced the rest of the drawer’s contents. Just as Grace slid the drawer closed, the study door flew open, and an angry voice shouted, “What the hell are you doing in here?”

41

Style and Fortune: From a Tiny 1920s Boutique to a Billion-Pound Fashion Empire

“Inside the Asterdam Family,” a Forbes UK profile

Grace

I froze in shock.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” came an angry voice.

Mr. Asterdam stood in the doorway, flanked by three other men, including, once again, Mr. Eddington. I stared at Mr. Asterdam’s furious face, unable to respond. I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts over the pounding of my heart.

Luckily, Ethan was with me, and he thought much faster on his feet. He turned his back and began hastily fiddling with the zipper of his trousers. For a moment, I was confused—until through the roar of blood in my head, I realised what Ethan was doing. Had I not been so terrified of the truth coming out, I might have felt embarrassed, but as it was, I just put on a sheepish expression and played along.

“Fuck,” Ethan swore, breathless. He turned to face the men as soon as his trousers were supposedly zipped again. The two men I didn’t know smirked slyly in my direction, but Mr. Eddington looked suspicious. “We’re so sorry. We didn’t mean to—”

“How did you get in here?” Mr. Asterdam cut him off.

“We were just looking for a quiet place,” Ethan deflected. “Please don’t tell my parents. They’ll hit the roof if they find out. And Grace would lose her job. Please!”

Mr. Asterdam ignored him and stepped into the room. His gaze swept the study, as if he wanted to make sure nothing was out of place. “I’ll ask you again: How did you get in? The door was locked.”

Ethan feigned confusion. If I hadn’t known the truth, I would have believed him. He was a good liar. No wonder I, and the rest of the world, had been taken in by his arsehole shtick for so long. “No, it wasn’t. If it had been, we wouldn’t be in here.”

Mr. Asterdam shot a questioning look at Mr. Eddington, who scrutinised us—he’d watched the door being locked, after all. But after a few seconds, he shrugged helplessly. James’s dad turned his attention back to Ethan and me, his lips pressed together. I dropped my gaze, partly to play up my embarrassment and partly because I was terrified that he’d see the truth in my eyes: that I believed he was the monster who had my sister’s blood on his hands. And I was fairly certain that the evidence was now on Ethan’s phone.

“I’m calling security,” he announced.

“Claude, please!” Ethan took a step towards him. “This is all just a misunderstanding. Grace and I just wanted to have a little fun. You know how it is.”

Mr. Asterdam didn’t look convinced, but Mr. Eddington laid a hand on his shoulder. “Let the kids go. They were only messing about. It wouldn’t be the first time.” He shot Ethan a pointed look.

Mr. Asterdam didn’t speak for a few seconds, then he nodded. “Fine. I won’t call security, but I want you to get out of my house. Take your things and leave. Understood?”

Ethan nodded. “Understood.”

I muttered something that sounded like an agreement.

We hurried out of Mr. Asterdam’s study. I grabbed my bag from our table and quickly let Kate know we were leaving while Ethan collected our coats from the cloakroom and called Wallace. The driver must have been waiting nearby, because when we stepped out of the villa not five minutes later, he already had the car pulled up in the drive.

He opened the door for us, and we slid into the back seat of the limousine.