Chapter 3 - The Secret Behind the Camera
The following morning, I moved Matteo's bedroom to the secure east wing.
Clara objected.
"He needs sunlight."
"It isn't safe."
"He needs normal."
"He needs to stay alive."
She crossed her arms.
"And what does a prison need?"
I stared at her.
She didn't look away.
Finally, I said,
"Fine."
She smiled.
"You are trainable."
I almost laughed.
Then Dominic called.
"Sir, we have a problem."
I went downstairs.
He showed me the security footage from the night before.
The intruders hadn't entered through a window.
They had been inside the estate for forty-seven minutes before the alarm triggered.
"Impossible."
"Not if someone gave them access."
I looked at the footage.
The timestamp showed 1:17 a.m.
A guard opened the side gate.
He wasn't supposed to.
"Who?"
"One of the new hires."
"Where is he?"
"Dead."
I went silent.
That was how things worked in my world.
People who betrayed powerful men rarely lived long enough to explain themselves.
But something bothered me.
The dead guard had no criminal record.
No hidden accounts.
No known ties to my enemies.
He had a family.
He had children.
Someone had manipulated him.
Not paid him.
Manipulated him.
I thought of Victor.
I thought of Elena.
I thought of the hidden camera footage.
Then I thought of Clara.
She was the only person my wife had explicitly told me to trust.
I found her in the library.
She was helping Matteo read.
"Can we talk?"
"Sure."
She closed the book.
Matteo looked at me.
"Later," I told him.
He nodded.
I sat across from Clara.
"Why did Elena tell me to trust you?"
Clara looked at the floor.
"Because she knew what I had survived."
"Your brother?"
She nodded.
"Daniel wasn't investigating your company because he wanted money."
"Then why?"
"Because he believed your organization had been infiltrated."
"By who?"
"We couldn't identify him."
"Man or woman?"
"Man."
"Name?"
"We didn't know."
"How do you know this is connected to the bombing?"
"Because two days before the explosion, Daniel disappeared."
"Did you see him?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
She swallowed.
"At a hotel."
"With Elena?"
"No."
"With whom?"
Clara looked at me.
"Victor Sloane."
My heart stopped.
"You're sure?"
"I followed him."
"Why?"
"Because Daniel asked me to."
I stood.
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"Because I didn't know if you were involved."
"Do you now?"
She held my gaze.
"I don't know."
The honesty infuriated me.
But I couldn't argue with it.
I had surrounded myself with people who lied professionally.
Clara simply admitted uncertainty.
That afternoon, I confronted Victor.
His office was on the top floor.
He looked completely relaxed.
"Vincent."
"How long have you known Daniel Hayes?"
Victor froze.
"Who?"
"Daniel Hayes."
His expression recovered.
"I don't know anyone by that name."
I placed a photograph on his desk.
His face changed.
Only for a second.
But it was enough.
"You lied."
He stood.
"I don't appreciate accusations."
I leaned closer.
"Then appreciate prison."
He laughed.
"You think your little caretaker can save you?"
I felt something cold move through me.
"What did you say?"
Victor's smile disappeared.
"I said you're making mistakes."
"Which ones?"
"Trusting women who show up with sad stories."
My jaw clenched.
"Leave my building."
He stared.
"I've worked for you for twelve years."
"Not anymore."
He left.
Dominic stepped inside.
"Do you want him followed?"
"Yes."
"Alive?"
"Obviously."
Dominic almost smiled.
"Good."
That evening, Matteo asked Clara a question.
"What was Mommy like?"
Clara sat beside him.
"Brave."
"Pretty?"
"Very."
"Funny?"
Clara smiled.
"Sometimes."
"Did she love Dad?"
I stopped outside the door.
Clara looked toward the hallway.
She knew I was there.
"Very much."
Matteo smiled.
"Did Dad love Mommy?"
Clara looked at me.
"Yes."
I entered.
"More than anything."
Matteo reached for my hand.
I sat beside him.
"I still love her."
"I know."
Then Matteo whispered,
"Mommy said..."
He stopped.
I leaned closer.
"What did she say?"
He struggled.
Clara waited.
"Mommy said... cameras."
I frowned.
"She said cameras?"
He nodded.
"She said... Dad watches."
Clara's eyes widened.
"What else?"
Matteo pointed toward the camera mounted in the corner.
"She said... don't trust..."
He stopped.
His breathing became rapid.
I turned off the camera.
"Take your time."
He tried again.
"Don't trust... the man..."
"Which man?"
Matteo's face twisted with frustration.
"The man... behind Daddy."
I froze.
Clara looked at me.
There was no one behind me.
Except the open door.
I turned.
Nobody.
But the words stayed.
The man behind Daddy.
Someone close enough to my life that Matteo had seen him.
Someone my wife had feared.
That night, I reviewed old footage again.
Hours passed.
Then I saw it.
One month before the bombing, Victor had entered Elena's office at 9:42 p.m.
He stayed for eleven minutes.
When he left, he carried a folder.
Elena followed him into the hallway.
They argued.
Then Victor turned toward the nearest hidden camera.
He stared directly at it.
And smiled.
I stopped the recording.
He knew.
He had known about my surveillance for years.
Which meant he had been performing for me.
The next morning, I found Clara staring at one of the cameras.
"Does it bother you?"
She glanced at me.
"What?"
"Being watched."
She shrugged.
"It did at first."
"You knew?"
"Of course."
I stared.
"You knew the cameras existed?"
"Your guards have been obvious."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because if I told you I knew, you'd replace me."
"Probably."
She smiled.
"So I waited."
"You waited for what?"
"For you to decide whether I was a person or a suspect."
I looked at her.
"And?"
She held my gaze.
"You're still deciding."
She walked away.
I watched her go.
Then my phone rang.
Dominic.
"We tracked Victor."
"Where?"
"An old warehouse."
"Is he alone?"
"No."
"Who is with him?"
Dominic hesitated.
"Your wife."
Everything inside me stopped.
"That's impossible."
"I thought so too."
He sent me the photograph.
Victor stood beside a woman.
Her face was turned toward the camera.
But I knew that profile.
Brown hair.
Small silver earrings.
A familiar posture.
Elena.
May you like
My dead wife was alive.
Or someone wanted me to believe she was.
