Chapter 5 - THE TRAITOR UNDER THEIR ROOFThe mansion employed thirty-two people.
Dominic trusted nine.
Vincent trusted four.
Claire trusted none.
“Someone knows the children’s schedules,” she said.
Vincent frowned.
“So does half the staff.”
“Someone knew where I was standing yesterday.”
“Could have been surveillance from outside.”
“Through reinforced glass, trees, perimeter fencing and patrols?”
Vincent didn’t answer.
Claire leaned across Dominic’s desk.
“Stop looking for professional criminals.”
Dominic narrowed his eyes.
“Why?”
“Because professionals look for threats like themselves.”
“And you don’t?”
“No. I look for people.”
She asked for staff schedules.
Vincent laughed.
Dominic handed them over.
Claire spent two hours watching.
Not interrogating.
Watching.
Who avoided eye contact.
Who interacted naturally with the children.
Who had changed routine.
Who knew too much.
Mrs. Russo remained protective and irritated.
The chef complained constantly.
Groundskeepers barely entered the main residence.
Cleaners rotated floors.
Then Claire noticed Andrew Bell.
Twenty-six.
Assistant groundskeeper.
Quiet.
He had worked at the estate nine months.
When Matteo spilled juice in the breakfast room, Andrew knew before anyone told him.
When Lily asked where the playhouse key was kept, Andrew answered immediately.
Claire watched him.
A groundskeeper shouldn’t know the daily details of the interior.
That evening she followed him.
He left the staff corridor at 10:17.
Walked toward the greenhouse.
Claire stayed far behind.
Andrew entered.
A minute later, a faint glow appeared.
Phone.
Claire crept closer.
She heard him whisper.
“No. She’s still here.”
Claire’s pulse spiked.
A pause.
“The girl too.”
She stepped backward.
A floorboard cracked.
Andrew turned.
Claire ran.
He caught her near the greenhouse door.
She swung a metal watering can.
It struck his shoulder.
He cursed and grabbed her.
Claire screamed.
Security lights exploded on.
Andrew shoved her away and sprinted toward the woods.
Vincent’s men intercepted him near the fence.
Dominic arrived moments later.
He saw Claire’s bruised wrist.
His face transformed.
“Who touched you?”
Claire pointed.
“Him.”
Andrew was dragged back.
Dominic moved toward him.
Claire stepped between them.
“No.”
“Move.”
“No.”
“He put his hands on you.”
“And your children are upstairs.”
Dominic stared.
“Don’t become the thing they’re afraid you are.”
For several seconds, no one breathed.
Then Dominic stepped back.
“Take him downstairs.”
Andrew began laughing.
“You still think this ends with me?”
Dominic’s eyes sharpened.
“Who sent you?”
Andrew smiled.
“Your brother says hello.”
Silence.
It was the first confirmation.
Gabriel was alive.
Andrew refused to say where.
But his phone contained enough.
Encrypted messages.
Photographs.
Schedules.
And one date.
Friday.
Two days away.
Beside it:
BRING THEM HOME.
“Home where?” Claire asked.
Dominic stared at the screen.
“My father’s old estate.”
It had been abandoned for years.
Claire immediately understood.
“A trap.”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t go.”
Dominic looked toward the staircase.
“If Gabriel wants the boys, he’ll keep coming.”
“Then call law enforcement.”
Vincent shifted uncomfortably.
Claire noticed.
“What?”
Dominic answered.
“Gabriel has information.”
“About you.”
“Yes.”
“How bad?”
Dominic didn’t reply.
Claire exhaled.
“Wonderful. Criminal family politics.”
His jaw tightened.
“I never pretended to be something I wasn’t.”
“No. You just built a mansion around your children and hoped your past wouldn’t find the address.”
That one hurt.
He turned away.
Claire immediately regretted it.
Not because it wasn’t true.
Because she was beginning to understand what truth cost him.
That evening, Lily slept in Claire’s room.
The triplets insisted on sleeping there too.
Four mattresses ended up spread across the floor.
Matteo fell asleep first.
Nico followed.
Lily curled beneath Claire’s old cardigan.
Luca stayed awake.
“Is someone trying to hurt us?”
Claire looked at him.
She refused to lie.
“Someone wants to scare your father.”
“Because he’s bad?”
Children never asked convenient questions.
Claire sat beside him.
“Your dad has done things I don’t know about.”
“People at school say he’s bad.”
“What do you think?”
Luca stared at his brothers.
“He loves us.”
“That matters.”
“It doesn’t answer.”
“No.”
Claire tucked the blanket around him.
“Good people sometimes do bad things. Bad people sometimes love somebody. Life is annoying like that.”
Luca considered this.
“Do you like him?”
Claire nearly choked.
“What?”
“My dad.”
“Go to sleep.”
“You do.”
“Luca.”
He grinned.
“You like him.”
She threw a pillow at him.
For the first time since meeting Claire, Luca laughed without cruelty.
At one in the morning, Claire found Dominic outside on the terrace.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
She stood beside him.
“Luca asked whether you’re bad.”
Dominic’s hands tightened around the railing.
“What did you say?”
“That he should decide based on what he sees.”
Dominic looked toward the dark grounds.
“He’ll hate me eventually.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’ve done things.”
“I figured you weren’t terrifying Chicago with aggressive tax preparation.”
A faint smile.
Then silence.
“Gabriel was right about one thing,” Dominic said.
“What?”
“Our father treated us differently. I was prepared to lead. Gabriel was treated like a spare.”
“And you?”
“I let him.”
Claire looked at him.
“You were young.”
“I was twenty-nine.”
“Young enough to be stupid.”
“Comforting.”
“I’m excellent at comfort.”
He turned toward her.
They were closer than either had realized.
Claire felt the shift.
She stepped back.
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were thinking about it.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“So were you.”
“Difference is, I’m smart enough not to.”
His phone rang.
Vincent.
Dominic answered.
His face went blank.
“What?”
Claire’s stomach dropped.
“What happened?”
Dominic lowered the phone.
“Andrew escaped.”
“How?”
“He had help.”
Claire stared.
“Another traitor?”
Dominic nodded.
Then his phone buzzed again.
A video arrived.
Dominic opened it.
Gabriel Moretti appeared on screen.
Older than Dominic.
Thinner.
A scar across one cheek.
Very much alive.
“Hello, brother.”
Dominic froze.
Gabriel smiled.
“You’ve been ignoring my invitations.”
Behind him stood the abandoned Moretti estate.
“Friday,” Gabriel said.
“Come alone.”
The camera moved.
Claire saw a wall covered with photographs.
Dominic.
The boys.
Claire.
Lily.
Hundreds of them.
Gabriel leaned close to the camera.
“If you don’t…”
May you like
He touched Lily’s photograph.
“…I’ll stop asking politely.”
Related Stories
