Chapter 3 - The Secret Room
I returned to the house at 3:00 p.m.,
accompanied by two of my most trusted security guards.
The "guests" were gone,
removed by the police I had called from the hospital,
but the house still felt haunted.
My mother was sitting in the living room,
sipping tea as if nothing had happened.
"Lucas,
darling,"
she said,
her voice smooth and manipulative.
"You're being so dramatic."
"Gwen is a fragile girl,
she wanted to be on the floor,
it helped her back."
I didn't even look at her.
"Get out of my sight,"
I said,
my voice a low growl.
"Go to your room and stay there until the police return for a formal statement."
I went straight to the guest suite where my mother had been staying.
I began to tear it apart,
searching for the truth behind the money.
Under the mattress,
I found a thick ledger.
It wasn't a diary;
it was a record of every cent I had sent.
Fourteen thousand dollars for a "specialist" had gone to a boutique in Paris.
Six thousand for "nursery furniture" had been transferred to Gavin’s gambling account.
Every penny meant for my child’s life had been spent on their decadence.
But then I found a key,
a small,
brass thing hidden in a jewelry box.
It didn't fit any door in the main house.
I remembered the small basement room,
the one we used for old holiday decorations.
I headed down the stairs,
the air growing colder with every step.
When I reached the door,
I saw that a new deadbolt had been installed.
I used the brass key.
The door groaned open,
revealing a space that made the dining room floor look like a palace.
It was a tiny room,
no more than six by six feet.
There was a thin mat on the floor,
stained with sweat and tears.
A single bucket sat in the corner.
On the wall,
scratched into the paint,
were tally marks.
One for every day I was away on business.
This was where they kept her when I wasn't home.
This was where Gwen,
the woman who sold her grandmother’s earrings for me,
was discarded like trash.
I found her phone under the mat,
the screen shattered.
I turned it on,
and hundreds of unsent messages flooded the screen.
"Lucas,
please help me."
"They won't let me eat today."
"Brenda says the baby is hers,
not mine."
"I’m so cold."
I fell to my knees in that dark,
smelly room,
clutching the phone to my chest.
The betrayal was a bottomless pit,
and I had been the one who invited the devil into our home.
I stood up,
my eyes burning with a cold,
unyielding light.
May you like
I wasn't just going to evict them.
I was going to destroy them.
