Chapter 3 – THE DRAWING IN THE DARK

I couldn’t see what was on the paper.

But I saw the way Luca’s hands shook. A man who managed billion-dollar mergers and silenced rooms with a look was staring at a yellowed piece of paper as if it were a loaded gun.

“Isabella,” Luca said gently, not looking up. “Go with Miss Hannah for a moment. Just out to the hallway, sweetheart.”

Isabella clutched her mother’s hand. “Daddy?”

“It’s okay, baby. Just for a minute.”

Hannah, the music teacher, stepped forward and gently guided the little girl through the grand double doors.

The moment they clicked shut, Luca walked over to Vivian. He didn’t yell. He didn’t raise a hand. He simply held the paper out so she could see it.

I took a half-step forward.

It was a child’s drawing. Crayon on construction paper. It showed a little girl with dark hair, and behind her was a tall, shadowy figure with red eyes. Written at the bottom in jagged, adult handwriting were three words: Don’t tell Daddy.

“You left this in a four-year-old’s bed?” Luca’s voice was barely a whisper.

Vivian stared at the drawing, her eyes wide with genuine shock. She scrambled backward on the marble floor.

“No,” she gasped. “Luca, I swear to God, I didn’t write that. I never threatened her physically! I just manipulated the letters and the lawyer!”

“Then who put this in my daughter’s bed?!” Luca roared.

The sound was deafening. I jumped, pressing my back against the service door.

Caroline stepped forward. “I thought it was you, Vivian. I thought you were trying to scare us out of the house.”

“I wanted you gone, yes!” Vivian cried, her voice cracking. “But I love Isabella! I practically raised her after you left! I would never put a nightmare in her bed!”

Luca stared at his sister, searching for the lie. But the panic on Vivian’s face was raw. It wasn’t the calculated fear of getting caught; it was the terrified confusion of someone who just realized there was another monster in the house.

“If it wasn’t Vivian,” Caroline whispered, her face pale, “then who was in her room?”

Suddenly, a sickening realization hit me.

“Mr. Moretti,” I said quietly.

Luca turned to me.

“The new fiancée,” I said, my heart pounding. “Miss Eleanor. She’s the one who wanted Isabella sent to boarding school after the wedding.”

Luca frowned. “Eleanor wasn’t around four years ago. I didn’t even meet her until last year.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

I thought about the way Eleanor walked through the estate. The way she knew exactly which floorboards creaked. The way she looked at Caroline’s portrait before it was taken down.

“I was cleaning Miss Eleanor’s private dressing room yesterday,” I continued. “She had a box of old photographs. There was one of her at a charity gala. The date on the back was five years ago. And you were in the background, Mr. Moretti. Talking to her father.”

Luca went incredibly still.

He looked at Vivian. “Eleanor’s father. Richard Vance. He was on the board of the company when Dad died, wasn’t he?”

Vivian’s breath hitched. She looked like she was going to be sick.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Richard was the only one who knew about the debt besides Caroline’s father.”

Luca’s eyes darkened with a terrifying realization. “Richard Vance orchestrated the debt cover-up. And he positioned his daughter to marry me to secure the estate.”

Before anyone could speak, the ballroom doors swung open.

Hannah stood in the doorway, her face completely drained of color.

“Mr. Moretti,” she gasped, clutching her chest.

“What is it?” Luca demanded.

Hannah’s voice broke into a sob.

“Isabella is gone.”

Share