Chapter 2 - THE WAREHOUSE
The message remained on Sebastian’s phone, bright and merciless against the dark screen.
BRING THE ORIGINAL WILL TO THE OLD STERLING WAREHOUSE.
And beneath it, the photograph of my mother lay like a threat neither of us could afford to misunderstand.
I reached for the phone. Sebastian let me see the picture again, but he didn’t let me take it from him.
“That’s the rehabilitation center’s blanket,” I whispered. “I bought it for her. She should be in her room.”
“Daniel,” Sebastian said, without looking away from the screen. “Find out which hospital that is. Quietly. Send two people to the rehabilitation center and two to every hospital in the area. No uniforms. No sirens. If anyone asks, they’re there to check on a patient.”
Daniel was already moving.
Vanessa stood by the fireplace, one hand pressed against her mouth. The guests had begun to shift, murmuring to one another, but Sebastian’s security men closed the dining-room doors. The room felt smaller with every second.
“You’re not going to that warehouse,” Vanessa said.
Sebastian finally looked at her. “You’ve lost the right to tell me where I can go.”
“My father has people there.”
“Then he can explain himself to them.”
“He won’t negotiate.”
“I’m not going to negotiate.”
Her face crumpled. “You don’t understand. Richard doesn’t care about the money anymore. He cares about what Antonio kept.”
My grandfather lifted his head at the sound of his name. “The ledger,” he rasped.
Sebastian crouched beside him. “What ledger?”
Antonio’s eyes moved toward the black metal box. “Not… here.”
“Where is it?”
“Catherine.”
I felt the word like a hand closing around my throat. My mother’s name had turned the evening into something far larger than a stolen estate. I had spent my whole life believing she had been abandoned by a man who was too ashamed to claim her. Now I was learning that the family had buried more than one secret.
Sebastian rose. “Emma, you’re staying here with my father.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened. “This isn’t a discussion.”
“My mother is in that photograph.”
“And that is exactly why you’re staying somewhere secure.”
“I’ve spent eleven months in this house being told when I could speak, where I could stand, and what I was allowed to know. I’m not going to sit quietly while strangers decide what happens to her.”
For a moment, I thought he might order Daniel to escort me upstairs. Instead, Sebastian studied my face. I saw the same battle in him that I felt inside myself: fear disguised as anger, and anger held together by discipline.
“You’ll stay beside me,” he said at last. “You won’t approach anyone without my signal. If I tell you to leave, you leave. Immediately.”
I nodded.
Vanessa gave a broken laugh. “You’re taking her? You trust the maid more than your fiancée?”
“I trust the person who protected my father when you tried to silence him.”
The words landed harder than a shout.
A doctor arrived twenty minutes later, followed by two independent paramedics. They examined Antonio in a private sitting room while Daniel secured his medication and photographed every bottle. The doctor’s first assessment was cautious: Antonio was exhausted, dehydrated, and possibly affected by inconsistent medication. He needed a hospital evaluation, not another argument.
Sebastian insisted that his father be taken under independent medical supervision. Antonio caught his wrist before the paramedics lifted him.
“Son,” he whispered. “The woman… in the photograph.”
“I know, Dad.”
“No. You don’t.” Antonio struggled to draw breath. “She was there… that night.”
“Catherine?”
Antonio blinked slowly. “Your mother.”
Sebastian’s face changed. “My mother died in an accident.”
His father’s eyes filled with tears. “That’s what they told you.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Before Sebastian could ask another question, Antonio’s grip weakened. The doctor intervened, and the paramedics wheeled him toward the waiting ambulance.
Sebastian watched until the doors closed. Then he turned to Daniel.
“Get the car.”
Vanessa stepped in front of him. “Please. If you go to that warehouse, you’ll give Richard exactly what he wants.”
“What does he want?”
“The original will. The ledger. And the proof that your mother didn’t die the way everyone said she did.”
Sebastian went still.
I looked at Vanessa. “How do you know that?”
She stared at me, and for the first time that evening, her fear seemed genuine rather than theatrical.
“Because,” she whispered, “my father told me he had already killed once to keep that secret buried.”
Sebastian’s hand closed around his phone. “Then he’s going to have to tell us who he killed.”
We left the mansion under a cold October rain. As the car pulled away, my phone vibrated with a new message from the unknown number.
A short video.
My mother lay in a hospital bed, her eyes closed. Someone stood outside the room, their face hidden by the reflection on the glass.
A voice spoke from behind the camera.
“Bring Sebastian alone. If Emma comes, Catherine dies first.”
Then the video ended.
Sebastian watched it once, then again. His expression hardened into something frighteningly calm.
“He thinks he can make me choose,” he said.
I looked at the frozen image of my mother.
“No,” I whispered. “He thinks he can make you believe I’m the weakness.”
May you like
Sebastian met my eyes.
“And he’s about to learn what happens when he mistakes family for weakness.”
