When Marcus spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the terrifying calm of an executioner.
“Put him on speaker, Helen.”
I didn’t hesitate. I tapped the speaker icon and held the phone out toward the dining table, where Ethan and Beatrice sat frozen under the chandelier.
“Ethan,” Marcus’s voice boomed across the kitchen, filling every corner of the room. “Can you hear me?”
Ethan swallowed hard, his face turning an uneasy shade of pale. He stood up slowly from the table, trying to muster a semblance of corporate authority. “Mr. Sterling... sir. I didn’t know you were on the line. Helen just dropped in unannounced and she’s—well, she’s exaggerating—she’s making a scene over nothing—'