Chapter 16 - THE ROOM BEHIND THE WALL
We entered my father’s old study shortly after midnight.
Carlo swept it first.
No one.
Dust covered the furniture.
Or appeared to.
Grace noticed the floor.
“One section is cleaner.”
Behind a tall bookcase, we found a narrow passage.
The old mansion blueprints did not show it.
The corridor led to a hidden office between two walls.
Inside were modern computers.
Active network equipment.
Security monitors.
Someone had been operating from inside my home.
Carlo stared at the screens.
“This is how they bypassed us.”
Grace moved toward a desk.
A coffee cup was still warm.
Whoever used the room had been there less than an hour earlier.
I looked at the monitors.
Every important room in the mansion was visible.
Kitchen.
Library.
Foyer.
Garage.
My office.
Nora’s bedroom.
Rage rose through me.
Someone had watched my daughters.
Grace touched my arm.
“Dominic.”
She pointed to another monitor.
A recorded feed.
Fourteen months earlier.
Isabelle walking through the hallway.
Someone had been watching her too.
Carlo traced cables.
“They run to the old staff corridor.”
“Where does that exit?”
“Garage.”
We checked footage.
At 11:42 p.m., a hooded figure left the hidden office.
Walked through the garage.
Entered a black sedan.
The person turned slightly.
My stomach dropped.
Marco Bell.
“He’s in custody.”
Carlo stared at the timestamp.
“Then this is old footage.”
Grace looked closer.
“No.”
The clock on the wall behind him showed tonight’s date.
We called federal authorities.
Marco was supposed to be in a secure detention facility.
They confirmed he was still there.
So the person in the footage was not Marco.
We enhanced the image.
The hood shifted.
A woman.
Same height.
Same build.
Then she turned toward the camera.
Cecilia.
She had disguised herself using Marco’s coat.
Anthony watched the recording.
“She came back here.”
“Why?”
Grace checked the computers.
“To erase something.”
She pointed to deleted directories.
Most files were recoverable.
One contained scanned passports.
Bank accounts.
Property records.
Victor had prepared escape identities for several people.
Including Cecilia.
One remained unused.
Name: Elaine Reed.
Photograph: Cecilia.
Address: Montreal.
Anthony stared at the screen.
“She’s going to Canada.”
Edward spoke from the doorway.
“No.”
Everyone turned.
He pointed at the birth date on the passport.
“That date means something.”
“What?”
“It’s Victor’s mother’s birthday.”
Grace froze.
“He’s sending Cecilia to the old Rossi property.”
“Where?”
“Vermont.”
My mother looked at her.
“Our grandfather owned a summer house near the border.”
Victor had grown up there.
The property had supposedly been sold decades earlier.
Records showed otherwise.
A holding company still owned it.
Hale-Rossi Holdings.
The company on Victor’s ring.
Cecilia was not escaping randomly.
She was going to Victor’s oldest safe location.
And possibly taking whatever final evidence remained.
Anthony insisted on coming.
This time, I allowed it.
The journey took hours.
Snow began falling before sunrise.
The house stood alone beside a narrow river.
No lights.
No vehicles.
We entered carefully.
Nobody inside.
But the fireplace was warm.
A suitcase sat upstairs.
Cecilia had been there.
Grace found financial records.
Carlo found passports.
Anthony found something else.
A framed photograph.
Victor.
Young.
Beside a woman.
And Salvatore Romano.
My father.
On the back was a handwritten date.
1979.
Anthony stared at it.
“What is this?”
Edward looked sick.
“I hoped that was gone.”
“What?”
He sat down.
“Victor wasn’t only Elena’s half brother.”
My mother stared at him.
“Edward.”
“What are you saying?”
He closed his eyes.
“Salvatore discovered something before he married Elena.”
Victor’s mother had claimed another secret.
A secret that had bound Victor to my father far more closely than any business relationship.
Victor believed Salvatore Romano was his biological father.
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
Edward nodded.
“Yes.”
“If he was right, Victor was not merely your half brother.”
He looked at me.
“He was Salvatore’s first son.”
The room went silent.
And suddenly Victor’s obsession with the Romano family had a new meaning.
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He had not only wanted our money.
He believed we had stolen his life.
