Chapter 3 - NOBODY LEAVES RAVENWOOD
The iron gates at Ravenwood weighed twelve tons.
They were designed to keep people out.
That afternoon, someone used them to keep us in.
I called my security chief.
“Tony.”
“Working on it.”
“What happened?”
“Override from inside the house.”
“Whose credentials?”
Silence.
“Tony.”
“Yours.”
I looked at Elena.
“Impossible.”
“Somebody cloned them.”
“How long to reopen?”
“Five minutes.”
“You have two.”
I ended the call.
Elena looked pale.
“Go get Emma.”
“She’s not in the library.”
“She’s safe. Wine room.”
Her eyes widened.
“You locked my daughter in a wine cellar?”
“Room. Not cellar.”
“Dominic.”
It was the first time she had ever used my first name.
I almost respected the anger.
“She was safer there.”
Elena hurried away.
I moved toward the security office.
Halfway there, the lights flickered.
Then went out.
Emergency lights turned the hallways red.
My phone rang.
Vivien.
“Dominic?”
Her voice sounded frightened.
Too frightened.
“What’s happening?”
“System problem.”
“I’m in the upstairs sitting room.”
“Stay there.”
“Where are you?”
“Checking the generator.”
Another lie.
We were both collecting them now.
I entered the security room.
Tony Greco sat at the monitors.
Forty-two.
Former Army Ranger.
Loyal to my father before he was loyal to me.
He swore when he saw me.
“Main servers are being wiped.”
“Stop it.”
“Trying.”
Screens flashed.
Files vanished one after another.
Camera history.
Door records.
Guest logs.
Someone was cleaning Ravenwood from the inside.
“Can you trace it?”
Tony typed rapidly.
“Signal’s bouncing.”
“To where?”
“Guest network.”
“Who has access?”
“Everybody.”
I leaned closer.
A camera feed returned.
The old greenhouse.
A man moved through the trees outside.
Gray coat.
Baseball cap.
He looked directly toward the camera.
Then lifted his face.
Marco Bellini.
Alive.
I hadn’t seen him in eighteen months.
He smiled at the camera.
Then the feed went black.
Tony muttered, “Son of a bitch.”
My phone rang again.
Unknown number.
I answered.
No greeting.
A man’s voice said, “Still running home early, Dominic?”
Marco.
My jaw tightened.
“Come inside.”
He laughed.
“Your father used to say that too.”
“You killed him?”
Silence.
Then, “You always ask the wrong question first.”
“What question should I ask?”
“Ask why your fiancée needs Elena Carter dead before Saturday.”
I glanced at Tony.
He heard every word.
“Where are you?”
“Closer than you think.”
“You want money?”
“I already took your money.”
Six million.
“Then what?”
Marco sighed.
“I want what your father stole from mine.”
There are families in my world whose grudges survive generations.
I knew Marco’s father had worked for mine.
That was all.
“What did he steal?”
“A name.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“The name of the person who really owns the Moretti offshore network.”
I said nothing.
Marco continued.
“You think it’s yours.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Check the blue folder.”
My blood cooled.
He knew exactly what Vivien had photographed.
“You’re watching my house.”
“I’ve been watching your house for years.”
Then he said something that changed the temperature in the room.
“Ask Elena who Emma’s father was.”
The line went dead.
I stood there staring at the phone.
Tony turned toward me.
“You want me to trace it?”
“Yes.”
He typed.
Then stopped.
“What?”
“The call came from inside the estate.”
A crash sounded from somewhere upstairs.
Then Elena screamed.
I ran.
I found her outside the wine room.
The door was open.
My watch lay on the floor.
The room was empty.
Emma was gone.
May you like
On the stone wall, someone had written five words in red lipstick.
SIGN TOMORROW OR SHE DISAPPEARS.
