Chapter 7 - THE SECRET ROOM
By sunrise, the island was sealed.
Every employee was questioned.
Every boat was searched.
Every helicopter was grounded.
But there was no sign of the attacker.
Then Daniel found a hidden passage beneath the old villa.
It was behind a wall panel.
The passage led underground.
I followed him.
The air smelled damp.
At the end was a steel door.
Inside was a room filled with monitors.
Dozens of screens displayed camera feeds from across the island.
Someone had been watching everything.
My family.
The wedding.
Mia.
Me.
There were folders everywhere.
One was labeled with my name.
Another with Sarah's.
Another with my mother.
Then I found one marked:
ELENA — CHILDHOOD.
I opened it.
Inside were photographs of me as a little girl.
My school.
My first job.
My college graduation.
My first apartment.
Someone had documented my entire life.
Mark stared at the files.
“This wasn't created by Greg.”
“How do you know?”
“Some of these photographs are twenty years old.”
I felt a chill.
Greg couldn't have been watching me that long.
Someone else had.
I opened the oldest document.
It was a letter.
My father had written it.
Twenty-two years earlier.
It said:
Elena cannot know about the trust.
I looked at Mark.
“What trust?”
He searched the room.
We found another document.
A trust had been established in my name when I was eight.
My grandparents had created it.
It contained assets worth millions.
But there was one condition.
I would receive control only when I turned thirty.
My birthday was six weeks away.
I stared at the date.
“That's why.”
Mark nodded.
“Your family knew.”
My father had spent years pretending I had nothing.
But my grandparents had left me an empire.
My parents had hidden it.
They had used my income.
My work.
My assets.
My entire adult life.
And now that I was about to gain full control…
They had rushed the wedding.
They needed me to sign everything before my birthday.
I suddenly understood.
Greg wasn't the mastermind.
My parents weren't the mastermind either.
They were working for someone.
Someone who had been waiting twenty-two years.
Then the underground door slammed shut.
Daniel spun around.
“Who's there?”
The lights went out.
A voice came through the speaker.
“Elena.”
I recognized it.
My grandfather's old attorney.
Mr. Harrison.
But he had died five years earlier.
I stared at the speaker.
“That isn't possible.”
The voice laughed.
“Your family has lied to you for a very long time.”
Mark whispered:
“That's not a recording.”
The voice continued.
“You were never supposed to discover the trust.”
I stepped toward the speaker.
“Who are you?”
A pause.
Then:
“Someone who knew your grandfather better than your father ever did.”
The screen flickered.
A live video appeared.
An elderly man sat in a dark room.
He looked directly into the camera.
And I knew him.
My grandfather's closest business partner.
A man everyone had believed was dead.
May you like
He smiled.
“Hello, Elena.”
