Chapter 3 - The Maid Who Knew Too Much
The standoff lasted nine minutes.
No shots.
No shouting.
Just silence.
Then Voss's phone call came.
Vincent answered.
"You're getting careless, Costa."
"You came to my property with armed men."
"Because you have something I need."
"You mean the ledger."
A pause.
Then Voss laughed.
"So the girl told you."
Vincent's eyes moved toward Charmian.
She stood behind him, terrified.
"You hurt my employee," Vincent said.
"She's not your employee."
"No?"
"She's a thief."
"You kidnapped her brother."
"He volunteered."
Vincent almost smiled.
"That's the lie you're using?"
Voss's tone changed.
"You don't understand what that ledger contains."
"I understand enough."
"It will destroy people."
"People you paid."
"People everyone pays."
Vincent looked at Matteo.
"I want your word that the boy is alive."
"You've seen him."
"I want proof."
A photograph arrived.
Elias was tied to a chair.
Alive.
Vincent's face hardened.
Voss spoke again.
"You have one hour."
"For what?"
"Bring me the pages."
"And if I don't?"
"Then your little maid stops being a maid."
The call ended.
Charmian looked terrified.
Vincent turned toward her.
"He threatens you because he thinks you're valuable."
"He wants the ledger."
"No."
She looked up.
"He wants what the ledger can identify."
Vincent understood.
The ledger wasn't merely evidence.
It was leverage.
And people with leverage were dangerous to men like Voss.
Vincent called his legal team.
He wanted copies made.
He wanted the documents distributed through secure channels.
If anyone tried to kill him, the files would automatically be released.
Matteo stared at him.
"You're going to expose everything?"
"If necessary."
"That could destroy us too."
"I know."
Charmian looked at him.
"You would risk your organization for this?"
Vincent turned.
"I'm risking it because someone inside my organization sold me."
He looked at her.
"And because your brother shouldn't have to die for what he discovered."
Charmian's eyes filled.
She turned away quickly.
That night, Vincent discovered another surprise.
Charmian could shoot.
He found her in the training room holding a pistol with perfect posture.
"Where did you learn that?"
She lowered it.
"My father."
"He trained you?"
"He was security."
"For whom?"
She hesitated.
"People who worked for your family."
Vincent stared.
"Your father knew my father?"
"Yes."
"And you never mentioned it."
"You never asked."
The answer annoyed him because it was true.
"Why are you really hiding all this?"
Charmian looked at the gun.
"Because my father died protecting someone else's secret."
"Whose?"
"Your mother's."
Vincent froze.
His mother had died when he was twelve.
He remembered almost nothing about her death.
"Explain."
Charmian looked at him.
"She found out what your father was doing."
Vincent's blood turned cold.
"My father?"
"He was laundering money through companies tied to Voss."
"My father built this family."
"Yes."
"You're saying he was corrupt?"
"I'm saying he wasn't the man you thought he was."
Vincent walked away.
He spent an hour in his father's old study.
He pulled boxes from shelves.
Ledgers.
Letters.
Old photographs.
Then he found a photograph of his mother with Charmian's father.
On the back were three words.
TRUST NO ONE.
Vincent closed his eyes.
His entire childhood suddenly felt like a carefully constructed lie.
The next morning, Charmian entered the study.
He held out the photograph.
She looked at it.
"My father gave this to me before he died."
"Why?"
"He said if anything happened to him, I should remember that your mother tried to stop it."
Vincent looked at her.
"Did my mother know about Voss?"
"She knew about the money."
"Did she know about the violence?"
"I don't think she knew the full extent."
"What happened to her?"
Charmian lowered her voice.
"Your father told everyone she died of illness."
Vincent's face hardened.
"You're saying she was murdered."
Charmian shook her head.
"No."
"Then what?"
"She disappeared."
The room went silent.
"My father helped her."
Vincent stared.
"Where did she go?"
"I don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I was six."
Vincent's anger faded.
He had forgotten she was nineteen.
Forgotten how much of her life had been spent surviving the aftermath of secrets created by people twice her age.
He lowered the photograph.
"I'm sorry."
She looked shocked.
"For what?"
"For asking you questions like you owe me answers."
Her expression softened.
"No one has ever said that to me."
Vincent looked at her.
"Then people have failed you."
Something changed between them.
Something neither named.
The next night, the house was attacked.
Gunfire shattered the windows.
Vincent dragged Charmian behind a stone wall.
His men returned fire.
She pressed against him, shaking.
A bullet hit the marble column inches from her head.
Vincent covered her with his body.
When the shooting stopped, he looked down.
She was breathing hard.
Her hand was gripping his shirt.
"You okay?"
She nodded.
Then whispered:
"You saved me."
Vincent looked at the blood on her sleeve.
"No."
He noticed the cut.
"You saved me."
A shattered piece of glass had embedded in his shoulder.
Charmian stared.
"You got hurt."
"I've been hurt worse."
"That doesn't mean it doesn't matter."
Vincent looked at her.
Her eyes were wet.
He had never been afraid of gunfire.
He had never been afraid of men like Voss.
But standing there with her trembling hand against his chest, he felt something much more dangerous.
May you like
Attachment.
And he knew better than anyone what attachment could cost.
