Chapter 3 – THE CHILD’S DRAWING IN THE DOG BED

The grandfather clock in the hallway struck ten.

The engagement party had been completely disbanded. Daniel and the security team had quietly escorted Vanessa and her family off the property. The mansion was silent, except for the relentless rain against the glass.

Luca sat at his father’s heavy mahogany desk in the library, staring at the photograph.

Teresa had gone to bed, exhausted by the emotional toll of the evening, with Walter sleeping faithfully beside her mattress.

I was clearing the untouched champagne glasses from the dining room when Luca walked in.

“Claire.”

I put down the silver tray. “Yes, Mr. Moretti?”

“You said you felt the photograph in his right pocket.”

“Yes, sir.”

“My father was left-handed. He kept everything important in his left inner breast pocket. The right pocket had a hole in it for years.”

I frowned. “But it didn’t fall through.”

“Exactly,” Luca said. “Someone stitched it shut recently. Someone hid that photo there.”

He placed the picture on the table.

“Do you recognize the little girl in this photo?”

I looked closer. The dark curls. The sad, wide eyes. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her.

“No, sir. I’m sorry.”

Luca sighed, rubbing his temples. “Vanessa knows. She didn’t drop that safety deposit key by accident. She wanted me to go to the bank. Which means whatever is in that box is a trap.”

I thought about Walter.

“Mr. Moretti,” I said softly. “When I was looking for Walter today… I checked his dog bed in the laundry room.”

Luca looked at me.

“I noticed a zipper on the bottom of the cushion was broken. It was pulled open. I thought Walter had just chewed on it.”

Luca didn’t hesitate. “Show me.”

We walked quickly to the laundry room. The brown cushion was still sitting on the floor where I had left it.

Luca knelt down and flipped the bed over.

The zipper was indeed busted. He reached his hand deep into the foam padding.

He pulled out a folded piece of paper.

It wasn’t a document. It was a child’s drawing.

Drawn in bright, waxy crayons, it showed a big yellow dog standing next to a little girl with dark curls. Above the dog, in messy, child-like handwriting, was the name WALTER.

But it was the name signed at the bottom of the page that made the blood freeze in my veins.

To Daddy, love Mia.

Luca stared at the name.

“Mia,” he whispered.

He looked at the photograph again.

“My father didn’t just bring a dog home seven years ago,” Luca said, his voice laced with shock. “He brought a child.”

I looked at the drawing. “But where is she? I’ve worked here almost a year. I’ve never seen a child.”

“Because she’s hidden,” Luca said, standing up. “Vanessa didn’t want Walter gone because he was old and smelled. She wanted him gone because Walter was the only remaining connection to Mia.”

Suddenly, the laundry room door clicked shut.

The heavy lock tumbled into place from the outside.

I gasped, rushing to the door and pulling the handle. It wouldn’t budge.

“Daniel!” Luca shouted, banging his fist against the wood.

A voice echoed from the other side.

But it wasn’t Daniel’s.

It was Vanessa’s father, Carlo Bellini.

“Luca, my boy,” Carlo’s muffled voice came through the door. “You really shouldn’t have embarrassed my daughter tonight.”

“Carlo, open this door or I swear to God—”

“You’ll do what?” Carlo laughed. “Your security team is currently locked in the gatehouse. My men are inside. I’m giving you one chance, Luca. Re-propose to Vanessa tomorrow morning, publicly. Sign the merger papers. Or the old woman and the dog won’t wake up.”

Luca’s face went completely feral.

“If you touch my mother, I will end you.”

“Then be a smart boy,” Carlo said.

Footsteps walked away.

We were trapped.

Luca looked around the laundry room. There were no windows.

He looked down at the drawing of Mia and Walter.

Then he looked at me.

“Claire. Do you trust me?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

He walked over to the heavy industrial washing machine.

“Help me move this. Now.”