Chapter 2 - The Lie My Mother Rehearsed
For one terrible second, I couldn’t move.
“Grace?”
Another breath came from the darkness.
Then a faint metallic sound.
A chain.
I pushed deeper into the room.
“Turn on the lights!” I shouted.
Arthur reached for a switch.
Mother grabbed his wrist.
That single movement told me everything.
I knocked her hand away and flipped the switch myself.
White overhead lights flickered alive.
And the world I had known ended.
Beyond the hospital bed stood a massive iron enclosure built into the far side of the room.
A cage.
Inside it sat my wife.
Grace’s long dark hair hung tangled around her face. Her pale green maternity dress was torn at one shoulder and stained from days of confinement. Minor cuts crossed her arms.
Her belly was enormous.
Our son could come at any moment.
She stared at me as though I were an apparition.
I crossed the room so quickly I nearly fell.
“Grace.”
She grabbed the bars.
I dropped to my knees.
Our hands met between them.
The instant my skin touched hers, she began crying.
Not loudly.
That was worse.
She cried like someone who had already used up every scream she possessed.
“You came back,” she whispered.
“Of course I came back.”
“She said you wouldn’t.”
I looked over my shoulder.
Mother stood near the doorway.
“What did you tell her?”
Mother said nothing.
Grace tightened her fingers around mine.
“She told me you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That I was here.”
I stared at Grace.
“She said you ordered it.”
Something inside me shattered.
I looked at Mother.
“You told my pregnant wife that I ordered her imprisonment?”
“She was unstable.”
Grace recoiled.
“Don’t.”
Mother ignored her.
“She became paranoid after you left.”
“Stop lying.”
“I’m your mother.”
“And she is my wife.”
“She was manipulating you!”
My voice dropped.
“Open the cage.”
Mother folded her arms.
“I don’t have the key.”
Arthur suddenly spoke.
“Mrs. Rossi…”
Mother turned sharply.
“Be quiet.”
Arthur’s face changed.
Maybe he realized there was no going back.
Maybe he had spent too many nights hearing Grace cry.
Whatever the reason, he walked toward an antique cabinet.
Mother stepped in front of him.
“Arthur.”
He stopped.
She stared at him with the authority she had used for decades.
But Arthur looked at Grace.
Then at me.
And chose.
He opened the cabinet.
Behind several bottles sat a brass key.
I took it.
Mother said, “If you open that cage before hearing the truth, you may regret it.”
I slid the key into the padlock.
“No.”
Click.
“I’ll regret that she was ever inside it.”
The door opened.
Grace tried to stand.
Her knees buckled.
I caught her.
She made a small sound of pain.
“What hurts?”
“My back.”
“How long?”
“It comes and goes.”
Fear hit me.
“Are you having contractions?”
“I don’t know.”
I lifted her carefully.
She clung to my jacket.
“You’re really here.”
“I’m here.”
“You didn’t leave me?”
“Never.”
Her face crumpled against my chest.
I looked toward Arthur.
“Call an ambulance.”
Mother stepped forward.
“No hospitals.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“You can’t take her to a public hospital.”
“Watch me.”
“You don’t understand what this could do to the family.”
I laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“My wife has been locked in a cage, and you’re worried about the family reputation?”
“There are enemies watching us.”
“The enemy is standing in this room.”
Mother went silent.
Arthur called emergency services.
I carried Grace upstairs.
As we passed the nursery, she turned her face away.
“Don’t take me in there.”
I stopped.
“Why?”
Her breathing quickened.
“That’s where she took my ring.”
I looked at Mother.
Grace continued.
“She said she needed something you would believe.”
My hand tightened around Grace.
“Tell me everything.”
“Not here.”
I took her to our bedroom.
Our doctor arrived before the ambulance because Arthur had called him as well.
Dr. Elias Grant examined Grace while I stood outside the bedroom door.
Mother approached.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“You should leave.”
“This is my home.”
“No.”
I faced her.
“It was Father’s home. Then it became mine.”
Her expression hardened.
“You’d throw your own mother out because of a woman?”
“Because of my wife.”
“She has changed you.”
“No. She showed me what you are.”
Mother lowered her voice.
“Grace knows things she should never have learned.”
There it was.
The first piece of truth.
“What things?”
She looked toward the bedroom.
“Ask her.”
The doctor opened the door.
“Dominic.”
I turned immediately.
“The baby’s heartbeat is stable, but Grace is severely dehydrated and exhausted. She’s having early contractions.”
“Is she in labor?”
“Possibly beginning. I want her transported.”
The ambulance arrived minutes later.
Before they moved Grace, she grabbed my wrist.
“The wall.”
“What?”
“There’s more.”
“What more?”
“I couldn’t write all of it where she could see.”
She swallowed.
“Under the bed.”
“What’s under the bed?”
“I hid something.”
The paramedics carried her away.
I told my security team to accompany her and ordered two men I trusted more than anyone to remain outside her hospital room.
Then I returned downstairs.
Mother was gone.
“Where is she?” I asked Arthur.
“She went toward the east staircase.”
I sent men after her.
Then I returned to the hidden room.
The hospital bed was bolted down.
I knelt.
At first, I saw nothing.
Then I found a small tear in the underside of the mattress.
I reached inside.
My fingers touched plastic.
I pulled out a tiny memory card wrapped in fabric.
Arthur stared at it.
“What is that?”
“I don’t know.”
We went to my office.
I inserted the card into an isolated laptop.
There were twelve files.
Audio recordings.
Photographs.
And one video.
I opened the first recording.
Grace’s voice filled the room.
Weak.
But clear.
“If Dominic finds this, my name is Grace Rossi. I am being held against my will inside the west wing of the Rossi estate.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
Grace continued.
“His mother, Victoria Rossi, says Dominic ordered this. I don’t believe her anymore.”
A second voice entered the recording.
Mother’s.
“You should have kept your mouth shut.”
Grace answered, “Dominic deserves to know.”
Mother said:
“Dominic deserves an obedient wife.”
Then came a sound.
The recording ended.
My hands were shaking.
I opened another.
This time, Mother was speaking to a man.
A man I recognized.
Dr. Moretti.
The doctor who supposedly cared for Grace.
“She cannot leave before the child is born,” Mother said.
Moretti replied, “And afterward?”
There was a pause.
Then Mother answered.
“Afterward, Grace is no longer necessary.”
Arthur whispered, “Dear God.”
I stared at the screen.
My phone rang.
It was one of the men I had sent after Mother.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“She’s gone.”
“What do you mean gone?”
“Her car is here. But there’s an underground exit from the east cellar.”
I stood.
“Find her.”
Then another call came in.
The hospital.
Grace’s contractions had intensified.
I grabbed my jacket.
But before I could leave, Arthur said something that stopped me.
“Mr. Rossi.”
I turned.
“There’s something else you need to know.”
May you like
His voice shook.
“Your mother wasn’t working alone.”
