Chapter 4 - The Secret Hidden Behind the Locked Nursery
Richard ordered the boys moved to a secure wing that night.
I hated everything about the phrase secure wing.
Children should have bedrooms.
Blanket forts.
Toy boxes.
Not reinforced doors and armed guards.
Alex noticed immediately.
“Why can't we sleep upstairs?”
“Maintenance,” Richard said.
Alex looked at him.
Then at me.
“That's a lie.”
Richard inhaled.
I intervened.
“There's a security problem.”
Richard's eyes flashed toward me.
I ignored him.
“Are bad people coming?”
Max whispered.
“No,” Richard said immediately.
“Then why security?”
Alex asked.
I sat beside them.
“Because your dad would rather be too careful than not careful enough.”
Alex looked toward Richard.
“Like Mom?”
Silence.
That child saw everything.
Richard crouched in front of him.
“Yes.”
“Someone killed her.”
My heart stopped.
Richard's face changed.
“Who told you that?”
“Nobody.”
Alex swallowed.
“I heard Uncle Dominic.”
Richard stood.
“Where?”
“Last year. He was talking to Mr. Caruso.”
Dominic.
I knew the name.
Richard's younger cousin and second-in-command.
I'd met him briefly after the wedding.
Charming.
Expensive.
Smiled constantly.
Unlike Richard.
“What exactly did he say?” Richard asked.
Alex looked frightened.
“Dad…”
“I'm not angry.”
“You look angry.”
Richard softened immediately.
“You're right. I'm sorry.”
Another small thing.
Another sign he was trying.
Alex thought.
“He said Elena wasn't supposed to die alone.”
The room went silent.
Richard's face became unreadable.
“What else?”
“That's all.”
Max began crying quietly.
I pulled him against me without thinking.
He came willingly.
Richard looked at us.
Something painful crossed his face.
Then disappeared.
Later, after the boys slept, Richard called Dominic.
He did not accuse him.
He invited him over.
Dominic arrived within thirty minutes.
He was thirty-eight, dark-haired, handsome in a polished way, with the easy confidence of someone who had spent his entire life protected by a powerful surname.
He poured himself whiskey.
“Alex misunderstood.”
Richard sat across from him.
“What did you mean?”
“Elena wasn't supposed to die alone?”
Dominic sighed.
“You remember that investigation.”
“I remember everything.”
“I meant whoever hit her vehicle probably expected the boys inside.”
“Why were you discussing that with Vincent?”
Dominic's eyes flicked toward me.
“This is family business.”
“So am I,” I said.
His smile sharpened.
“Technically.”
Richard's voice lowered.
“Answer.”
Dominic took a drink.
“Vincent asked why you still suspected Caruso involvement. I told him you thought the attack was meant for the whole family.”
Richard studied him.
“And that was all?”
“Yes.”
I didn't believe him.
Maybe because I'd waited tables too long.
You learned things watching people lie over small things.
Who touched their face.
Who overexplained.
Who answered a question that hadn't been asked.
Dominic had done the last one.
Richard dismissed him shortly after midnight.
When the door closed, I said, “He's lying.”
Richard looked at me.
“You know that?”
“No.”
“Then don't make accusations.”
“I served hundreds of people every week.”
“That doesn't make you an investigator.”
“No. It makes me good at recognizing men who think women aren't paying attention.”
That shut him up.
I went upstairs.
But I couldn't sleep.
The photograph of Elena at the bus shelter bothered me.
Why there?
Why the exact place where Richard found me?
At two in the morning, I wandered toward the kitchen for water.
Bruno followed.
Instead, he stopped outside Elena's room.
Then continued farther down the west hallway.
At the end was a narrow door I'd never noticed.
Locked.
Bruno scratched it.
“What is that?”
He scratched again.
The handle didn't move.
Then I noticed something beneath a decorative table.
A child's wooden block.
Blue.
Dusty.
I picked it up.
A.
Alex.
The next morning, I asked Maria.
She froze.
“What room is at the end of the west hall?”
“I don't know.”
“You've worked here twelve years.”
“Yes.”
“So you know.”
Maria lowered her voice.
“Please don't ask me.”
That guaranteed I would.
Richard was in his office.
“What's behind the locked door?”
He looked up.
“What locked door?”
“West hallway.”
His expression changed.
“No.”
“That's not an answer.”
“Stay away from that room.”
“Why?”
“Sophie.”
“Richard.”
His hands flattened on the desk.
“Because I said so.”
There it was.
The mafia boss command.
Unfortunately for him, I had never been good with authority.
“Your children live here. Someone is threatening us. There is a locked room tied to their mother and nobody will discuss it.”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
“Then explain it.”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“You know what? We had rules.”
“This isn't one of them.”
“Maybe it should have been.”
I walked out.
I was furious.
But underneath the anger was fear.
Because every secret in Lancaster House seemed connected to Elena.
And every time Elena appeared, Richard became someone else.
That afternoon, Alex found me in the library.
“Are you mad at Dad?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“He makes people mad.”
“Good to know.”
“He doesn't tell stuff.”
“No. He doesn't.”
Alex looked around.
Then whispered, “I know what's in the room.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Mom's nursery.”
“Your nursery?”
He shook his head.
“The baby's.”
Cold spread through me.
“What baby?”
Alex's face tightened.
“Dad said not to talk about it.”
I crouched.
“You don't have to tell me anything.”
“Mom was going to have another baby.”
My heart dropped.
“She was pregnant?”
Alex nodded.
“When she died.”
I sat very still.
Richard had lost his wife.
His unborn child.
Almost his sons.
No wonder he had sealed the room.
“Dad built it before Max knew.”
“Did your mother use it?”
“No. It wasn't done.”
“Why lock it?”
Alex shrugged.
“Dad went in one time after Mom died.”
“And after?”
“Never.”
That night, I didn't confront Richard.
For once, I understood the silence.
Three days passed.
No new threats.
Richard became slightly less rigid.
Sunday arrived.
Pancake day.
Richard was terrible.
Spectacularly terrible.
He cracked an egg directly onto the counter.
Max laughed until he fell off his chair.
Alex secretly took photographs.
Richard glared at everyone.
I laughed harder than I had in months.
For one beautiful hour, we forgot everything.
Then the front window shattered.
Richard moved before the sound finished.
He dragged both boys behind the kitchen island.
Security flooded the room.
I crouched beside Max.
A small object lay among the broken glass.
Not a bullet.
A metal canister.
One guard approached carefully.
“No explosive.”
Inside was a flash drive.
Richard stared at it.
Minutes later, we watched the contents on an isolated computer.
A video.
Security-camera footage.
Three years old.
Elena entering a parking garage.
A man followed her.
The image was grainy.
His face unclear.
But his hand came into view as he reached for her vehicle.
He wore a ring.
Gold.
Black stone.
I had seen that ring before.
Two nights earlier.
Wrapped around a whiskey glass.
Dominic Lancaster.
I looked at Richard.
He didn't move.
“That's impossible,” he whispered.
Then the video continued.
Elena suddenly turned.
She recognized the man.
The camera had no sound.
But her lips clearly formed one word.
Dominic.
Richard's face collapsed.
May you like
And in that moment, the biggest danger to the Lancaster family stopped being a mysterious enemy outside the gates.
It became Richard's own blood.
