Chapter 3: The Enemy Inside the House
Dmitri survived.
Barely.
The bullet had missed his heart by inches.
The doctors called it luck.
Victor called it a warning.
I called it something else.
A message.
Because whoever attacked us wanted us to know they could reach anyone.
Even the man standing closest to Victor Romano.
The next morning, I sat inside a private room at Victor’s estate.
I still wasn’t used to the view.
The house overlooked the city from the top of a hill.
Everything was beautiful.
Everything was expensive.
Everything felt like a cage.
Victor entered without knocking.
“You’re comfortable.””
It wasn’t a question.
“I’m alive.””
“That’s usually considered comfortable.””
I looked at him.
“You always joke when you’re angry?””
“No.””
“Then what do you do?””
Victor sat across from me.
“I become quiet.””
I believed him.
Quiet people were often the most dangerous.
He placed the envelope on the table.
“The police found no fingerprints.””
“What was inside?””
“A photograph.””
“Of?””
He slid it toward me.
My heart stopped.
It was my father.
But older.
Different.
Standing beside Victor’s father.
And beside them…
Leon Mercer.
Three men.
Three friends.
Before everything fell apart.
“I’ve never seen this,” Victor said.
I picked up the photo.
“My father kept it.””
“How do you know?””
“Because he showed it to me.””
“When?””
“The week before he disappeared.””
Victor watched me carefully.
“What did he say?””
I remembered my father’s voice.
His tired eyes.
His hand shaking as he held the picture.
“He said, ‘Lena, sometimes the person standing beside you is the one holding the knife.’”
Victor looked away.
Because he understood.
A knock came at the door.
A woman entered.
Clara Whitmore.
Victor’s fiancée.
She looked different without the ballroom lights.
Less perfect.
More human.
“Victor, we need to talk.””
He stood.
“Not now.””
“It concerns last night.””
His expression hardened.
“Then speak.””
Clara glanced at me.
“She shouldn’t be here.””
I immediately understood.
She didn’t trust me.
“I saved his life,” I said.
Clara smiled coldly.
“And now you’re inside his house.””
Victor stepped between us.
“Enough.””
Clara looked at him.
“You’re protecting her?””
“I’m investigating her.””
“That’s worse.””
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“Leave.””
Clara hesitated.
Then she whispered:
“You don’t know what she is.””
The door closed.
I looked at Victor.
“You trust her?””
“No.””
That surprised me.
“Then why is she your fiancée?””
Victor didn’t answer immediately.
Finally:
“Because in my world, love and loyalty are often confused.””
That was the first honest thing he said.
Later that afternoon, Victor took me to the old Romano family office.
A place where secrets lived longer than people.
He opened a locked drawer.
Inside were dozens of files.
One had my father’s name.
I stared.
“You kept a file on him?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because I never believed the official story.””
I looked at him.
“You hated him.””
“I hated what I was told.””
That difference mattered.
Victor opened the file.
Inside were financial records.
Photographs.
Reports.
And one document that made my hands go cold.
A death certificate.
My father’s.
But the date was wrong.
“Impossible.””
Victor looked at me.
“What?””
“My father didn’t die that night.””
Silence.
“What do you mean?””
I pointed.
“The date.””
Victor looked closer.
The room became still.
The certificate said my father died fifteen years ago.
But the signature confirming his death was dated three years later.
Someone had created the paperwork after the fact.
Someone had wanted the world to believe Daniel Hart was gone.
Victor looked at me.
“Your father was alive three years after his disappearance.””
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“Then where was he?””
Before Victor could answer, the office phone rang.
He picked it up.
A few seconds later, his face changed.
“Put it through.””
A voice came from the speaker.
Old.
Weak.
But familiar.
“Lena?””
My knees nearly gave out.
I knew that voice.
I had spent fifteen years trying to remember it.
“Dad?””
Victor froze.
The voice continued.
“Lena, listen carefully. You have to get away from Victor Romano.””
I grabbed the phone.
“Where are you?””
A pause.
Then:
“I’m sorry.””
The line crackled.
“Your father never betrayed the Romano family.””
I held my breath.
“Then who did?””
The answer came in a whisper.
“The man who is still standing beside Victor.””
The call ended.
And at that exact moment, Victor’s security alarm started screaming.
Dmitri’s voice came through the speakers.
“Boss.””
“What happened?””
A pause.
May you like
Then:
“Leon Mercer just walked through the front gate.””
