Chapter 3 - Victor Locked Down His Mansion to Protect My Daughter—But the Threat Came From Someone Already Living InsideBy morning, the Rinaldi mansion looked less like a home and more like a military compound.
Men stood at every gate.
Security cameras were doubled.
The boys weren't allowed outside.
My daughter stayed beside me.
Victor barely slept.
Neither did I.
He spent most of the night on phone calls.
At five in the morning, I found him standing in the kitchen, staring at a computer screen.
“You should sleep.”
He looked at me.
“So should you.”
“I have a five-year-old.”
“You have four new children.”
I smiled.
“I'm beginning to think that's true.”
He studied me.
“Does Lucia like them?”
“She already asked whether she can adopt Nico.”
Victor almost smiled.
“She has good judgment.”
“You're saying that after meeting Nico?”
“Yes.”
“That's concerning.”
He laughed.
The sound surprised both of us.
Then a plate shattered upstairs.
Victor closed his eyes.
“Never mind.”
We rushed upstairs.
Alessandro was hanging from a curtain rod.
Marco was trying to climb onto a bookshelf.
Nico was laughing.
Matteo stood in the hallway with a look of complete innocence.
I stared at them.
“Why?”
Marco pointed at Alessandro.
“He started it.”
Alessandro pointed at Nico.
“He encouraged me.”
Nico pointed at Matteo.
“He dared us.”
Matteo looked at me.
“I never said anything.”
I sighed.
“Everyone sits down.”
They did.
Victor looked at me.
“You have an unnatural level of authority.”
“I've been a mother for five years.”
“Fair.”
We spent the morning doing schoolwork.
For the first time, I noticed that Marco struggled with reading.
Not because he couldn't read.
Because he refused to slow down.
Nico was brilliant with numbers.
Alessandro was creative.
Matteo was deeply observant.
They weren't bad children.
They were grieving children who had discovered chaos was a way to keep adults close.
I understood that.
My own daughter had done the same thing after Daniel left.
She used to throw toys against the wall whenever she was scared.
I had learned not to punish fear.
I taught the boys that too.
By lunchtime, something strange had happened.
They listened.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
Victor watched from the doorway.
“You're changing them.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“They're changing.”
He looked at me.
“What's the difference?”
“I'm not forcing them.”
“You're teaching them.”
“Exactly.”
He stared at the boys.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“Where?”
A pause.
“Do not move.”
He hung up.
“What happened?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“The man who threatened you was found.”
“Where?”
“In the underground garage.”
I felt a chill.
“Alive?”
“No.”
My heart pounded.
“Who killed him?”
Victor didn't answer.
That scared me more than the shooting itself.
Later, the boys were sent to a study room.
Victor took me downstairs.
A body had been discovered inside a vehicle.
The man had been shot once.
Clean.
Professional.
I looked away.
“Why bring me here?”
“Because you need to understand what you're involved in.”
“I understand enough.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“You don't.”
I looked at him.
“The person following you isn't after money.”
“Then what?”
“They're using you to reach me.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“Why?”
“Because you're the first person in years the boys have trusted.”
“So?”
“They know that.”
I understood.
The boys were leverage.
Victor was leverage.
I was the bridge.
“What do you think they want?”
“My company.”
“Your empire.”
“Something older.”
“What?”
He looked at the dead man's hand.
There was a symbol tattooed on his wrist.
A black rose.
“What's that?”
Victor's jaw tightened.
“The Black Rose.”
I froze.
“What is it?”
“A group my father fought thirty years ago.”
“Still active?”
“No.”
“Then who did this?”
“Someone claiming to be.”
I stared at him.
The Black Rose.
A secret criminal organization.
It sounded like something from an old story.
Yet the fear in Victor's eyes made it real.
Then Mrs. Bellini came running down the hallway.
“Mr. Rinaldi.”
Victor turned.
“We found something in the east hall.”
“What?”
She handed him a photograph.
It was me.
Walking my daughter into the mansion.
Taken from outside.
Victor stared.
“Timestamp?”
“Last night.”
My stomach turned.
Someone had been close enough to photograph us.
Inside the mansion.
Victor looked at security.
“Lock every exit.”
Then he looked at me.
“You stay with me.”
“I can protect myself.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“Because I want you where I can see you.”
The way he said it made my heart skip.
Not romantic.
Possessive.
Protective.
Dangerous.
I wasn't sure which one scared me most.
That afternoon, Lucia sat with Matteo in the library.
They were drawing.
I watched them through the doorway.
Matteo had drawn a house.
Lucia had drawn a family.
Four boys.
One girl.
Two adults.
I smiled.
Then I saw the man in the corner.
A shadow.
No face.
I approached.
“Who's that?”
Lucia shrugged.
“He's the bad man.”
My blood went cold.
“Where did you see him?”
She pointed at the drawing.
“Here.”
Matteo shook his head.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“He was in the hallway.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
My heart stopped.
“What did he look like?”
Matteo lowered his voice.
“Tall.”
“Hair?”
“Gray.”
“Anything else?”
He looked toward the door.
“He smelled like smoke.”
Victor entered.
“What happened?”
I showed him the drawing.
His face became completely still.
“Serena, take the children upstairs.”
“Who is it?”
“I said upstairs.”
His voice had changed.
The boys obeyed.
Lucia followed me.
Once we were gone, I heard Victor speaking to security.
“Search the house.”
Minutes later, footsteps echoed.
Then shouting.
I returned downstairs.
A security guard was being held against the wall.
Victor stood in front of him.
“Who let you through the east corridor?”
The guard was trembling.
“I don't know.”
Victor looked at him.
“You've worked for me for six years.”
“Yes.”
“You've passed three background checks.”
“Yes.”
“Then explain why you were carrying this.”
He held up a photograph.
It was the same image as the one on the phone.
Except the back contained a message.
SHE IS NOT WHO YOU THINK SHE IS.
I looked at Victor.
“What does that mean?”
He didn't answer.
The guard suddenly reached for his weapon.
Victor moved faster.
A shot.
The guard dropped.
The boys screamed upstairs.
I ran.
Victor caught my arm.
“Don't let them see.”
I froze.
We stood in the hallway.
The children watched from the staircase.
I looked at them.
They were terrified.
I crouched.
“It's okay.”
Marco swallowed.
“Did Dad kill him?”
I glanced at Victor.
Then back at Marco.
“Your father stopped someone from hurting us.”
Marco nodded.
He believed me.
Maybe because he wanted to.
That night, Victor told me something I had never expected.
“Your application was fabricated.”
I stared.
“What?”
“The references.”
“What about them?”
“They weren't from your previous employer.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“Someone created them.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why hire me?”
He looked at me.
“Because I suspected.”
“Suspected what?”
“That someone wanted you in this house.”
I felt sick.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“And you hired me anyway?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His answer was quiet.
“Because I wanted to know why.”
I stared at him.
“You used me.”
“I protected you.”
“Both can be true.”
He didn't argue.
Then he stepped closer.
“I've checked your background.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“You've been honest about your life.”
I nodded.
“Except one thing.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
He showed me a photograph.
Daniel.
My ex-husband.
Standing beside a man I had never seen before.
The man had a tattoo.
A black rose.
I stared.
Victor said,
“Your ex-husband has been working with the people threatening my family.”
My knees weakened.
Daniel wasn't just trying to take Lucia.
He had been part of this from the beginning.
And suddenly I understood why he had moved the custody hearing forward.
He didn't want my daughter because he loved her.
He wanted her because she was connected to me.
And I was connected to Victor.
I looked at him.
“What happens now?”
Victor stepped closer.
“Now I make sure he never gets near you again.”
His eyes were cold.
“And Serena?”
“Yes?”
“You're not leaving this house.”
I stared at him.
“That wasn't a request.”
“No.”
May you like
He paused.
“It was a promise.”
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