Chapter 4 - The Room Victor Kept Locked
Victor’s penthouse contained 7 bedrooms.
Pippa chose the smallest.
It had a window seat overlooking the city, and that apparently outweighed square footage, luxury furniture, and every principle adults used when choosing rooms.
Bridget took the bedroom beside hers.
Victor remained across the hall.
For 3 days, nothing happened.
Which somehow made everything worse.
Bridget learned Victor drank coffee black, slept very little, and conducted business before sunrise.
Victor learned Bridget became sarcastic when frightened, refused expensive gifts, and could detect when he was lying with alarming accuracy.
Pippa learned everything else.
She discovered Gabriel kept chocolate in his desk.
She convinced 2 bodyguards to attend a tea party.
She named the robotic vacuum Kevin.
And she asked Victor questions nobody else dared ask.
“Why do all the men listen to you?”
“Because I pay them.”
“Mommy doesn’t always listen to her boss.”
Victor glanced at Bridget.
“I’ve noticed.”
“Do you have kids?”
Silence.
Bridget looked up.
Victor set down his coffee.
“No.”
“Do you want kids?”
“Pippa.”
“What?”
Victor answered before Bridget could stop her.
“I did once.”
Pippa accepted this.
Bridget noticed the past tense.
That evening, Bridget changed Victor’s dressing.
The wound was healing.
“You’ll have a scar.”
“I have others.”
“I’m shocked.”
Victor watched her work.
“You’re very good at this.”
“So I’ve been told by a highly qualified 6-year-old.”
“I mean it.”
Bridget taped down the clean dressing.
“So did she.”
“Why didn’t you finish nursing school?”
Her hands stopped.
“You investigated me, remember?”
“I know what happened. I asked why you never returned.”
“My mother needed care. Then Pippa came along. Then life got expensive.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
Victor accepted the boundary.
That surprised her.
Later, Bridget found Pippa standing in front of a locked door at the end of the hallway.
“What are you doing?”
“Kevin went in there.”
“The vacuum?”
Pippa nodded.
Bridget tried the handle.
Locked.
“Then Kevin lives there now.”
“But he’s scared.”
“He’s a vacuum cleaner.”
“He can still have feelings.”
Bridget sighed.
“Victor!”
He appeared from his office.
“What happened?”
“Your vacuum cleaner is experiencing an emotional crisis.”
Victor stared.
Pippa pointed at the locked door.
“Kevin went inside.”
Victor’s expression changed.
“Impossible.”
He crossed the hall and unlocked it.
The room beyond was dark.
Pippa squeezed past him.
“Kevin!”
“Pippa, wait—”
Too late.
Lights came on.
Bridget stepped inside.
It was a child’s bedroom.
Untouched.
A wooden train set sat on the floor.
A baseball glove rested on a shelf.
Stars covered the ceiling.
On the dresser stood a framed photograph.
Victor.
Younger.
Smiling.
Beside him was a blond woman holding a little boy of perhaps 5.
Bridget looked at Victor.
He had gone pale.
Pippa found Kevin trapped beneath a chair.
She rescued him.
Then she noticed the photograph.
“Who’s that?”
Victor did not answer.
Bridget knelt.
“Pip, take Kevin back to your room.”
“But—”
“Now.”
Something in her mother’s voice worked.
Pippa left.
Victor walked toward the photograph.
“My brother.”
Bridget waited.
“Daniel was 8 years younger than me. That’s his wife, Claire. Their son, Luca.”
“Where are they?”
“Claire remarried.”
“And Daniel?”
Victor looked through the window.
“Dead.”
Bridget understood the remaining question before asking it.
“Luca?”
“Same car.”
Her breath caught.
“Victor…”
“I was supposed to pick him up.”
His voice had become distant.
“Daniel called. He wanted me to take Luca for the weekend. I had a meeting. I sent a driver instead.”
Bridget said nothing.
“The car was hit leaving Stanley Park.”
“An accident?”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
Now she understood.
“That’s why you keep everyone away.”
Victor looked at her.
“That’s why I make sure there is nobody left to use against me.”
Bridget’s heart tightened painfully.
“And now Pippa and I are here.”
“Yes.”
“You’re afraid.”
Victor’s expression hardened automatically.
She stepped closer.
“You lied to Pippa.”
“About what?”
“She asked if you were scared.”
His eyes held hers.
For once, Victor had no answer.
A security alarm screamed through the penthouse.
Victor grabbed Bridget.
The gentleness disappeared instantly.
“Where’s Pippa?”
They ran.
Gabriel appeared from the opposite hallway.
“South elevator breached.”
Victor’s face became terrifyingly calm.
“Lock the floor.”
Bridget reached Pippa’s bedroom.
Empty.
“Pippa?”
No answer.
Her heart stopped.
“PIPPA!”
Victor shoved open the bathroom.
Empty.
Then a tiny voice came from the hallway.
“Mom?”
Pippa stood near the elevator.
A man in a maintenance uniform had one hand around her wrist.
Victor froze.
The man held a knife against Pippa’s shoulder.
Bridget could not breathe.
“Let her go.”
Victor’s voice was quiet.
The intruder smiled.
“Mercer wants the nurse.”
“No.”
Victor stepped forward.
“He gets me.”
“Victor—”
“Quiet, Bridget.”
The man laughed.
“Boss said you’d say that.”
Then the lights went out.
A gunshot cracked through the darkness.
Bridget screamed Pippa’s name.
When the emergency lights flickered on, the intruder lay bleeding on the marble floor.
Gabriel stood behind him holding a gun.
Victor was already on his knees.
Pippa flew into his arms.
He held her so tightly she squeaked.
“I’m okay,” she whispered.
Victor closed his eyes.
His hands were shaking.
Bridget had never seen them shake before.
Pippa touched his face.
“You’re scared now.”
Victor opened his eyes.
May you like
“Yes.”
This time he did not lie.
