Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO GUARDED HIM FOR FIFTEEN YEARS
Marcus Vale had been Adrian Cross’s most trusted security chief for fifteen years.
That was exactly why the betrayal hurt.
Adrian stared at him from beside the fireplace.
“Why?”
Marcus didn’t answer.
His eyes flickered toward the hallway.
I understood immediately.
He wasn’t alone.
I grabbed Adrian’s phone from the table even though there was still no signal.
Marcus noticed.
“Put that down.”
I laughed nervously.
“It’s useless.”
“Then why are you holding it?”
“Because you’re looking at it.”
His expression hardened.
That distraction gave Adrian time.
He slammed the brass candleholder against Marcus’s wrist.
The security chief cursed.
Something metallic hit the floor.
A gun.
I kicked it beneath the sofa.
Marcus lunged.
Adrian tried to intercept him, but his injured leg buckled.
I swung the fireplace poker into Marcus’s forearm.
He screamed.
I had never hit anyone that hard in my life.
I hoped never to again.
Adrian grabbed Marcus by the collar and forced him against the wall.
Even feverish and injured, he was frightening.
“Who sent you?”
Marcus laughed.
“You still think this is about you?”
Adrian tightened his grip.
“Who?”
Marcus looked directly at me.
Then smiled.
“Ask the maid why her mother died.”
My body went cold.
“What?”
Adrian froze.
Marcus laughed again.
“She doesn’t know.”
I stepped closer.
“Know what?”
“Your mother didn’t spend her last years sick because she was unlucky.”
My hands began shaking.
My mother, Diane Bennett, had died six months earlier after years of worsening kidney and neurological problems.
Doctors never found one clear explanation.
Exposure, autoimmune disease, medication complications—every specialist had a different theory.
“What does my mother have to do with Adrian?”
Marcus looked toward him.
“Everything.”
Then the mansion alarm suddenly began screaming.
Not the ordinary security tone.
Fire alarm.
A second later, smoke poured beneath the service-hall door.
Marcus used the distraction.
He shoved Adrian backward, kicked open the side door, and disappeared into the dark hallway.
I started after him.
Adrian caught my sleeve.
“No.”
“He’s escaping.”
“Let him.”
“What?”
“The house is filling with smoke.”
He was right.
The fire was the immediate danger.
I wrapped Adrian’s arm across my shoulders.
“Can you walk?”
“With help.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said about me.”
His mouth twitched despite the pain.
We moved toward the front foyer.
But the main doors wouldn’t open.
Ice had frozen the exterior locking mechanism.
Smoke thickened.
I remembered the service tunnel Marcus mentioned.
“Where’s the tunnel?”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“Basement.”
“Then we use it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“It exits near the rear gate.”
The same place where I found him beneath the collapsed awning.
My stomach tightened.
“They knew you’d go there.”
“Yes.”
The alarm continued screaming.
Adrian looked toward the staircase.
“There’s another route.”
“Where?”
“Elena’s room.”
I stared.
He had never allowed anyone inside that room.
Not even me.
We climbed slowly.
Every step hurt him.
When we reached the third floor, Adrian unlocked a white door.
The room inside had been untouched for twelve years.
A cream sweater rested across a chair.
Books lined the shelves.
A perfume bottle sat on the vanity.
It felt as though Elena had simply left that morning.
Adrian’s face shattered.
But he crossed to the wardrobe and pressed a hidden panel.
A narrow staircase appeared.
“Where does it go?”
“Old wine cellar.”
We entered.
Before closing the panel, I looked back.
Smoke was curling into Elena’s bedroom.
Then something on the vanity caught my attention.
A photograph.
Elena standing beside a younger woman.
My mother.
I stopped breathing.
I grabbed the frame.
Adrian turned.
“What?”
I held it up.
“That’s my mother.”
His face went completely white.
“No.”
“Yes.”
He stared at Diane Bennett’s face.
May you like
Then whispered:
“Your mother was with Elena the night she died.”
