Chapter 4 - THE SECRET INSIDE THE OLD WALL
Damien placed Lily's drawing beside the photograph.
The resemblance was impossible to ignore.
"Where did you see this, Lily?"
The little girl pointed toward the eastern wing.
"In the room with the big clock."
Elena knelt.
"Sweetheart, are you sure?"
Lily nodded.
"The lady was talking to Grandpa's picture."
Damien looked at Harold.
"Open the eastern wing."
Harold swallowed.
"Sir, your uncle has forbidden anyone from entering that section."
Damien picked up his coat.
"Then he'll have to explain why."
The eastern wing had been closed since Damien's father died.
Dust covered the furniture. Heavy curtains blocked the winter light. The walls were decorated with family portraits, including a large painting of his father standing beside a black automobile.
Damien examined it.
"There's something wrong with the frame."
He pressed the lower corner.
A faint click sounded.
The painting shifted forward.
Behind it was a narrow compartment containing a leather notebook.
Damien opened it.
His father's handwriting filled the pages.
The entries described missing money, suspicious meetings, and growing concerns about Richard's business dealings.
One passage was dated three days before the accident.
Richard has discovered the second ledger. If anything happens to me, Martin knows where the original is hidden. The time is 11:47. I must speak to Damien before the meeting.
Damien read the final sentence twice.
I fear the person closest to me has already made his decision.
His hands tightened around the notebook.
A second document had been folded inside its back cover.
It was a hospital record.
The name of the patient had been removed, but the date matched the night of the accident.
At the bottom was a signature.
Evelyn Whitmore.
"Bring her here."
Mrs. Whitmore arrived fifteen minutes later.
She entered with her usual stern expression.
"Yes, Mr. Vescari?"
Damien placed the hospital record on the table.
"Explain this."
She looked at it.
Her lips parted.
"I don't know what that is."
"Your signature says otherwise."
Mrs. Whitmore sat down without permission.
For the first time, she appeared old.
"I was protecting this family."
"From what?"
"From the truth."
Damien leaned forward.
"What happened that night?"
She looked toward the door.
Then she began speaking.
Richard had discovered that Damien's father intended to remove him from the family business. There were financial irregularities, stolen funds, and evidence that Richard had been secretly negotiating with a rival organization.
Martin Cole had found the documents.
He had planned to deliver them to Damien's father.
But Richard learned about the meeting.
According to Mrs. Whitmore, the confrontation took place in the mansion's garage.
Richard demanded the documents.
Damien's father refused.
There was an argument.
Then a struggle.
Mrs. Whitmore claimed she heard a gunshot.
"When I arrived, your father was bleeding," she whispered.
Damien's face became stone.
"Who shot him?"
She looked at him.
"I never saw."
"That's convenient."
"I swear."
"What happened next?"
"Richard told me he would take your father to the hospital. He said the police would ask questions and that I should keep the household quiet."
"And you obeyed?"
"I was frightened."
"You helped him cover up my father's murder."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I had a daughter. Richard threatened her."
Damien stared at her.
"Where is she now?"
Mrs. Whitmore looked down.
"Dead."
Silence.
Then she reached into her handbag and placed a small envelope on the table.
"Your father gave me this before he died."
Damien opened it.
Inside was a photograph of himself at twenty-three, standing beside his father.
On the back was a message.
If my son ever learns the truth, tell him not to seek revenge before he understands what happened.
Damien felt his chest tighten.
His father had known.
He had known Richard might kill him.
And somehow, he had still tried to protect his son.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Mrs. Whitmore began crying.
"Because I was a coward."
Before Damien could answer, the security alarm sounded.
Harold rushed into the room.
"Sir! There's been an incident."
"What?"
"Someone entered the servants' quarters."
Damien's blood ran cold.
"Where's Elena?"
"She's safe. But Lily is missing."
The room seemed to tilt.
Damien ran.
He found Elena standing in the small bedroom, holding Miss Buttons against her chest.
Her face was white.
"She was here," Elena whispered. "I turned around for one second. Then she was gone."
Damien looked at the open window.
Snow had begun falling outside.
A tiny red ribbon lay on the floor.
Lily's ribbon.
He picked it up.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A distorted voice spoke.
"Stop investigating your father's death."
Damien's jaw tightened.
"Where is the child?"
A pause.
Then a man's voice answered.
"She's with someone who knows how to keep secrets."
Damien's hand closed around the phone.
"If you touch her—"
"Bring me the ledger, Vescari. You have one hour."
The call ended.
Elena collapsed into a chair.
Damien looked at Harold.
"Lock down every exit. Call the security team. Find her."
Then he turned toward the door.
Harold stopped him.
"Sir, the caller knew about the ledger."
Damien looked at him.
"Yes."
Harold lowered his voice.
"And only three people knew we had found it."
Damien slowly turned.
May you like
"Who?"
"Mrs. Whitmore. You. And me."
