Chapter 9 – THE LOCKED DESK

Sunday morning arrived with the smell of fresh coffee and garlic.

For the first time in six weeks, the sunroom was full.

Rosa sat at the head of the table, buttering toast.

Luca was laughing.

Sophie was resting her head on Elena’s shoulder.

I stood near the doorway, holding a clipboard, wearing my new title.

Estate Manager.

It felt strange, but right.

Adriana wasn’t there.

She was packing her things in the guest wing. She was moving to an apartment downtown. She needed time, Luca said. And she needed to earn back their trust.

But while the family celebrated their reunion, my job had just begun.

Frank was in jail, denied bail.

The police were investigating his finances.

Which meant I was tasked with clearing out Frank’s study in the mansion.

After breakfast, I took the master key and walked down the long, quiet hallway to Frank’s office.

The room smelled like stale cigars and expensive leather.

I started boxing up his papers.

Most of it was useless. Receipts. Menus.

But then, I tried to open the bottom drawer of his mahogany desk.

It was locked.

I used the master key. It didn’t work.

I found a heavy brass letter opener and jimmied the lock until it snapped.

I pulled the drawer open.

Inside, there was only one thing.

A small, black leather notebook.

I picked it up.

It was heavy for its size.

I opened to the first page.

It wasn’t a ledger.

It was a list of names.

Dates.

And amounts of money.

But these weren’t company accounts.

Next to the names were locations.

Orphanage of St. Jude – $50,000 Mercy Hospital Maternity Ward – $100,000 Dr. Aris Thorne – $200,000

I flipped the page.

And my heart stopped.

There, circled in red ink, was a name I recognized.

Elena Moretti – Infertility Clinic.

Below it, written in Frank’s handwriting, was a note:

Paid Dr. Thorne. The child is secured. They will never know.

I stared at the page, my hands shaking.

Sophie was thirteen.

Elena had been dead for eight years.

Frank didn’t just frame Elena.

He orchestrated Sophie’s birth.

I looked at the date next to Dr. Thorne’s name.

It was nine months before Sophie was born.

I closed the book.

The happy ending was a lie.

The biggest secret hadn’t been buried in a grave.

It was sitting at the breakfast table.

Share