Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN THE HOSPITAL BED
The warehouse stood at the edge of an industrial district where Chicago’s lights gave way to freight yards, vacant lots, and long stretches of wet asphalt. The Sterling name had been removed from the building, but the outline of old lettering remained above the loading doors.
Sebastian parked two blocks away.
“Daniel’s team is in position,” he told me. “They’ll watch the exits. No one goes in until we know where Catherine is.”
“And if she’s inside?”
“Then we get her out.”
“You said you were coming alone.”
“I said that because the person threatening your mother wants me to believe I’m isolated. I don’t intend to make that mistake.”
He handed me a small earpiece. His fingers brushed mine, and the brief contact felt oddly grounding. We had met in this house as employer and employee, separated by wealth, power, and a history neither of us understood. Now our lives were bound together by a woman I feared I might lose.
We approached the warehouse through a side entrance. The lock had been forced recently. Inside, the air smelled of damp cardboard and machine oil. A few overhead lights burned above a row of empty loading bays.
“Sebastian Romano,” a voice called from the dark. “You brought the will?”
Richard Sterling stepped into the light wearing a charcoal coat and leather gloves. He looked older than he had at dinner, but not weaker. Two men stood behind him. Neither carried a visible weapon.
Sebastian held up a document envelope. “First, my mother-in-law—”
“Your mother-in-law?” Richard interrupted, amused. “You’ve promoted the maid quickly.”
“Where is Catherine?”
“Safe. For now.”
I forced myself to keep my expression still. “Let me hear her voice.”
Richard looked at me as if I were an inconvenience. “You have your mother’s eyes.”
“Then you know I won’t leave without her.”
His smile faded.
Sebastian placed the envelope on a workbench between us. “The original will. Now tell me where she is.”
Richard didn’t touch it. “You’re still thinking like a son. That’s your problem. Antonio made the same mistake. He believed blood made people loyal.”
“No,” Sebastian said. “He believed signatures should belong to the people who make them.”
Richard’s eyes narrowed. “You think this is about money. The properties are recoverable. The accounts can be traced. But some records should never have existed.”
“The ledger.”
A pause. Richard’s gaze flicked toward me.
My heart began to pound.
“You’ve told her about that?” he asked.
“No,” Sebastian replied. “My grandfather did.”
“Antonio should have stayed silent.”
“He tried. You took his phone, controlled his medication, and convinced everyone he was losing his mind.”
Richard’s expression hardened. “I kept your family from tearing itself apart.”
“You forged his signature.”
“I corrected an old man’s indecision.”
“You transferred his assets into your company.”
“I protected them from people who would squander them.”
“And my mother?”
For the first time, Richard looked genuinely unsettled. Sebastian took a step forward.
“What happened the night she died?”
Richard said nothing.
A metallic clank sounded behind us. One of Richard’s men turned toward a corridor. Daniel’s voice crackled softly in my earpiece: “Movement, east side. We have a possible victim.”
I kept my face still.
Richard noticed the tiny movement of my hand. “You brought security.”
“I brought witnesses,” Sebastian said.
Richard laughed without humor. “Witnesses are only useful when they live long enough to testify.”
He reached into his coat. Sebastian moved instantly, putting himself between Richard and me. But Richard pulled out a phone, not a gun, and tapped the screen.
A video began playing on a wall-mounted monitor.
Catherine lay in a hospital bed. Her face was pale, her hair thinner than I remembered, but she was unmistakably my mother. A man off camera asked her a question.
“Did you see who entered the room?”
My mother’s eyes moved toward the sound.
“Yes.”
“Can you identify him?”
She swallowed. “I can.”
Richard stopped the video.
“Your mother remembers the night,” he said. “She remembers who was in the house. She remembers the argument. And she remembers that Antonio was not the only person who came to your mother’s room.”
Sebastian’s voice dropped. “Who else?”
Richard smiled. “You’ll have to open the ledger.”
He pushed a small key across the workbench. “It’s in the office behind the loading bay. The combination is the date of your mother’s death. You’ll find the ledger, along with the original medical report.”
“And Catherine?”
“Once I know the ledger is intact, I’ll tell you.”
Sebastian did not move.
Richard’s patience thinned. “You have no leverage.”
“I have the will, copies of the transfers, and an audio recording of you admitting that my father’s authority had been revoked. Your company is already being investigated.”
For the first time, Richard’s mask cracked.
“You don’t understand what that ledger contains.”
“Then explain it.”
“It contains the names of people who built your empire. Judges. Police commanders. Politicians. Men who would rather burn this city than let their names become public.”
“And my mother’s death?”
Richard looked at me.
“Your mother found the ledger twenty-seven years ago. She was going to expose your grandfather’s business partners. Antonio tried to stop her. Sebastian’s mother intervened. The night she died, all three of them were in the house.”
“That’s a lie,” Sebastian said, but there was no certainty in his voice.
Richard leaned closer. “Then open the ledger.”
A sudden shout echoed from the east corridor. Daniel’s team had found a locked room. One of Richard’s men bolted toward the loading door. Sebastian’s security intercepted him, and the warehouse erupted into confused movement.
Richard used the distraction to seize the envelope from the workbench.
Sebastian lunged, but Richard tossed it to his second man, who ran toward the office.
I followed the movement and saw the man disappear through a narrow door. I heard the lock click.
Then Richard grabbed my wrist.
“Your mother made the same mistake,” he hissed. “She thought the truth would save her.”
Sebastian struck Richard’s hand away. “Touch her again and you won’t leave this building.”
Richard backed toward the main doors, his face twisting with rage. “You still don’t know who you’re protecting.”
He escaped through a side exit before Daniel’s men could close it.
We reached the locked office. Inside, the envelope lay torn open on a desk. The will was gone.
But a small recorder sat beside it, blinking red.
Sebastian pressed play.
A woman’s voice filled the room—his mother’s voice, recorded years before her death.
“If anything happens to me,” she said, “do not trust the man who calls it an accident.”
Then another voice spoke.
A man’s voice Sebastian recognized.
His own father’s.
“Please, Elena. Don’t make me choose.”
The recording clicked off.
Sebastian stared at the device as if the floor had vanished beneath him.
May you like
“Dad knew,” he whispered.
And from somewhere beyond the office door, a woman screamed my name.
