Chapter 2 - The Door Beneath the Bed
My mother had always believed she could control a room simply by entering it.
When I was a child, servants stopped talking whenever her heels touched the marble floor.
My father had called it elegance.
I had mistaken it for strength.
Standing in that corridor, looking at the armed men behind her, I finally saw something else.
Fear.
Not hers.
Everyone else's.
"Move away from the door," I told her.
Elena smiled.
"You're upset."
"You imprisoned my wife."
"Grace was unstable."
"She was carrying my child."
"Exactly."
The word hung between us.
I stared at her.
"What does that mean?"
My mother glanced at Peter.
"That man is not qualified to discuss your wife's condition."
Peter lowered his head.
"He knows enough," I said.
"Dante, we can settle this privately."
"You had six months to settle it privately."
I stepped forward.
One guard moved his hand toward his jacket.
"Don't," I warned.
My voice was quiet.
That made him hesitate.
My father had taught me that shouting was what frightened men did when they couldn't control a situation.
I had never forgotten the lesson.
"Put your weapons on the floor."
The taller guard looked at Elena.
She gave a slight nod.
Neither man moved.
I called Nico again.
"West wing."
"Thirty seconds," he answered.
Elena's smile disappeared.
"You brought outsiders into a family matter?"
"I brought men who answer to me."
I turned toward the nurse.
"Show me."
Peter crawled beside the hospital bed and pressed his fingers beneath the steel frame.
There was a click.
A square section of flooring lifted several inches.
Cold air rose from the opening.
My mother stepped forward.
"Dante, that passage hasn't been maintained in decades."
Peter shook his head.
"They used it yesterday."
I pulled the hatch open.
A narrow staircase disappeared into darkness.
The smell reached me before I saw anything.
Disinfectant.
Damp stone.
And something metallic.
Blood.
I switched on my phone flashlight.
Elena grabbed my arm.
"Listen to me."
I looked at her hand until she released it.
"If Grace is down there, you have one chance to tell me before I go."
My mother said nothing.
That was answer enough.
I descended.
Each step carried me farther beneath the home where I had grown up.
Above me were the dining rooms, libraries, and marble staircases my father had spent a lifetime building.
Below them was a world I had never known existed.
At the bottom stood another steel door.
Its lock had been recently replaced.
A small security camera faced the entrance.
Someone had scratched a number into the wall beside it.
17\.
I pushed against the door.
Locked.
"Nico," I said into my phone, "I need someone who can open a reinforced door."
"We're entering the west wing now."
Before he finished speaking, something moved behind the steel.
Three soft knocks.
I froze.
Then another three.
"Grace?"
Nothing.
I pressed my ear against the door.
A faint scraping sound followed.
I remembered something Grace had told me during our first year of marriage.
When she was little, her father had taught her a secret rhythm to use whenever she felt frightened.
Three knocks.
A pause.
Two knocks.
A pause.
One knock.
It means I'm still here.
I swallowed hard.
Then I knocked the pattern against the metal.
Three.
Two.
One.
For several seconds, there was only silence.
Then the answer came.
Three.
Two.
One.
My knees nearly gave way.
"Grace!"
A woman's voice whispered from the other side.
"Dante?"
I pressed both hands against the door.
"Baby, I'm here."
A sob broke through the metal.
"Oh, God."
"Move away from the door."
"No!"
Her voice rose sharply.
"Don't open it!"
I stared at the lock.
"Grace?"
"They wired something to it."
Footsteps thundered down the stairs behind me.
Nico appeared with two men carrying cutting equipment.
I raised my hand.
"Stop."
Grace was breathing hard.
"They said if anyone opened this door, the whole room would burn."
I looked at Nico.
His expression changed.
"Everyone back."
But before we could retreat, the security camera above the door turned toward us.
A tiny red light flashed.
Then a speaker crackled.
My mother's voice filled the passage.
"Now you understand why I told you to leave her alone."
I looked directly into the camera.
"If you hurt her, there is nowhere on earth you can hide."
Elena answered with almost affectionate disappointment.
"Oh, Dante."
May you like
A mechanical clicking began inside the lock.
"You're still assuming Grace is the only person down there."
