Chapter 3 - SEVENTEEN MISSING MINUTES
Victor answered on the first ring.
“Alex?”
“Where are you?”
“Home.”
“Did you access my security system tonight?”
Silence.
“No.”
“Your authorization code did.”
Another pause.
“Then someone used it.”
“Who has access?”
“My assistant. Corporate security, possibly.”
Too many answers.
Not enough certainty.
I did not tell him about Matthew.
Or Nicholas’s envelope.
“Something happened at the house.”
“What?”
“Rose was injured.”
“Your housekeeper?”
That answer came too smoothly.
He knew exactly who Rose was.
I noticed.
“Yes.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’ll survive.”
“Good.”
Then:
“What does this have to do with me?”
I ended the call.
Back at the estate, investigators preserved every camera recording before Camila could return.
She was staying with her sister after police questioned her.
Her attorney had advised her not to speak to me.
Smart.
The camera blackout lasted seventeen minutes.
But one exterior camera remained online because it belonged to the gate system, not the house.
At 11:54 p.m., Camila walked from the garage toward the side entrance.
She was carrying her phone.
At 11:57, she stopped.
Typed something.
At 11:58, interior cameras died.
There was no proof yet that she used Victor’s credentials.
Then footage resumed at 12:15.
Rose staggered into the hallway.
Camila followed.
They argued.
No clear audio.
Rose held an envelope.
Camila grabbed for it.
Rose backed away.
Then the mirror broke.
Camila froze.
Rose collapsed.
And instead of calling 911, my fiancée dragged an unconscious woman toward an empty bedroom.
I watched once.
Never again.
My attorney, Michael Chen, looked at me.
“She was trying to hide Rose.”
“Yes.”
“Possibly long enough to remove evidence.”
“Yes.”
Then another video appeared.
Earlier that evening.
Before Camila and I left for the gala.
She had entered Nicholas’s old study.
Stayed eleven minutes.
Why?
My security team inspected the room.
One drawer had been forced.
The leather document case Rose described was open.
Empty.
Then we found fingerprints.
Rose.
Camila.
Mine.
And Victor’s.
Victor rarely visited my house.
“When was he here?” I asked.
The household manager checked logs.
Six weeks earlier.
Victor came while I was in London.
Camila had let him inside.
They spent forty minutes in Nicholas’s study.
Nobody told me.
My stomach turned.
Then Michael asked:
“The key?”
I removed it from my pocket.
Hartford Federal Trust opened at nine.
At 9:04, I was inside with my attorney.
The key corresponded to a safe-deposit box registered to:
NICHOLAS VANCE.
Secondary authorized holder:
ROSE MENDOZA.
Inside were four folders.
A flash drive.
A sealed DNA sample kit.
An ultrasound photograph.
And a notarized document.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF EXPECTED PATERNITY AND CHILD TRUST INSTRUCTION.
Nicholas had signed it.
Rose had signed.
A witness had signed.
I stared at the witness name.
May you like
CAMILA HART.
Eight years before she became my fiancée, Camila had already known Nicholas was expecting a child.
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