CHAPTER 2 — THE BODY IN THE BALLROOM
The ballroom had not yet recovered from the sound of the steel barriers locking into place.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The orchestra stood frozen beneath the chandeliers.
A waiter stared at the champagne glass shattered beside his shoe.
Politicians whispered behind their hands.
Businessmen checked their phones.
And Damian Blackwood stood directly in front of me, staring as though he had finally realized that the woman he had attacked was not the helpless stranger he thought she was.
I could still taste blood.
My lip was split.
My shoulder hurt where he had slammed me against the marble wall.
But none of that mattered anymore.
Because every exit was sealed.
Every camera was recording.
And for the first time that night, Damian was afraid.
“You're insane,” he whispered.
I looked at him.
“No.”
I wiped the blood from my mouth.
“I’m prepared.”
Damian's eyes moved toward the steel doors.
“Open them.”
“No.”
“I said open the doors.”
“And I said no.”
His face darkened.
“You don't understand what you're doing.”
I almost smiled.
“That sentence sounds much less intimidating when you're the one trapped inside.”
One of Damian's friends stepped forward.
“Do you know who he is?”
I turned toward him.
“Yes.”
“The Blackwood family owns this estate.”
“I know.”
“They own half this city.”
“I know that too.”
He laughed nervously.
“Then you're making a very serious mistake.”
“No.”
I looked around the ballroom.
“Your mistake was assuming ownership meant control.”
Before he could answer, a woman's scream cut through the room.
Everyone turned.
A waiter was standing near the eastern corridor.
His face had gone white.
His champagne tray slipped from his hands.
Every glass shattered.
He pointed toward the hallway.
“There’s... someone there.”
Damian frowned.
“What?”
The waiter couldn't speak.
I walked toward the corridor.
Marcus appeared immediately beside me.
“Stay behind me.”
I ignored him.
The hallway was dark.
One of the chandeliers flickered overhead.
The music had stopped.
The entire ballroom seemed to be holding its breath.
I walked farther.
Then I saw the shoe.
A black leather dress shoe lying on the marble floor.
Then the hand.
A man's hand.
Pale.
Motionless.
I stopped.
Marcus stepped past me.
“Don't move.”
He crouched.
Checked the man's neck.
Then looked up.
His expression changed.
“He's dead.”
The ballroom erupted.
People screamed.
Someone shouted for the police.
Someone else began crying.
Damian pushed through the crowd.
“Who is it?”
Marcus stood.
He looked at Damian.
“Victor Blackwood.”
Silence.
Damian froze.
“No.”
He pushed past Marcus.
“No.”
He dropped to his knees beside the body.
“Dad?”
Victor Blackwood lay on his back.
His expensive tuxedo was stained dark across the chest.
There was a single gunshot wound beneath his left collarbone.
His eyes were open.
His expression was frozen in terror.
Damian touched his father's shoulder.
“Dad.”
Nothing.
He shook him.
“Dad!”
Still nothing.
Then Damian turned toward me.
His grief disappeared.
Hatred replaced it.
“You killed him.”
The ballroom went silent again.
I stared at him.
“What?”
“You killed my father.”
“No.”
“You were threatening him.”
“I was exposing him.”
“You said you wanted him destroyed.”
“I said I wanted the truth.”
“You locked the exits!”
“Yes.”
“You had security everywhere!”
“Yes.”
“You were the last person seen with him!”
I looked at the body.
Then back at Damian.
“That doesn't mean I killed him.”
Damian stood.
“You expect anyone to believe that?”
“No.”
I glanced toward the security cameras.
“I expect the cameras to tell them.”
A police siren sounded outside.
Then another.
And another.
Damian smiled.
“You're finished.”
I didn't answer.
Because something about the body bothered me.
I stepped closer.
Marcus immediately blocked me.
“Don't touch anything.”
“I wasn't going to.”
I pointed toward Victor's right hand.
“Look.”
Marcus followed my gaze.
Victor's fingers were curled around something.
A small piece of black fabric.
Marcus leaned closer.
He carefully examined it without touching.
“Someone was holding onto this.”
I looked at Damian.
He was wearing a black tuxedo.
But the fabric in Victor's hand wasn't from his suit.
It was velvet.
Damian looked at it.
“I don't know what that is.”
I believed him.
For the first time that night, I knew Damian hadn't killed his father.
He was cruel.
Arrogant.
Violent.
But he wasn't the murderer.
Someone else had been here.
Someone who knew exactly how to use the chaos.
Someone who knew I would lock the doors.
Someone who wanted everyone trapped inside.
I looked toward the ballroom.
And suddenly I understood.
The locked doors weren't just my weapon.
They were someone else's opportunity.
The killer knew no one could leave.
Which meant...
The killer might still be inside.
I turned to Marcus.
“Check every guest.”
His expression hardened.
“Everyone?”
“Everyone.”
Damian laughed.
“You think the killer is one of us?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because nobody could have entered after the lockdown.”
Marcus looked toward the guards.
“She's right.”
Damian's face changed.
He stared around the ballroom.
Hundreds of people.
Every one of them suddenly a suspect.
Then the police arrived.
The ballroom doors opened.
Chief Harrison walked in.
I recognized him immediately.
He was one of the city's most powerful law enforcement officials.
He looked at the body.
Then at Damian.
Then at me.
His eyes stopped on the blood beneath my lip.
“What happened?”
Damian answered immediately.
“She killed my father.”
I stared at him.
Chief Harrison looked at me.
“Is that true?”
“No.”
“Did you threaten Victor Blackwood tonight?”
“Yes.”
The room reacted.
I continued.
“But I didn't kill him.”
Chief Harrison studied me.
“Why were the exits locked?”
“Because Damian assaulted me.”
Damian stepped forward.
“She attacked me first.”
I looked at him.
“You slammed me against a wall.”
“You were provoking me.”
“You put your hands on me.”
He smiled bitterly.
“And now you're pretending to be innocent.”
Chief Harrison raised his hand.
“Enough.”
He turned toward me.
“Miss Vale, I need you to come with us.”
I didn't move.
“Why?”
“You are a person of interest in a homicide.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“No?”
“You're making a mistake.”
“We'll determine that.”
I looked at Marcus.
He gave me the smallest nod.
I understood.
Let them try.
Because they had no idea what I had prepared.
Chief Harrison stepped closer.
“Turn around.”
I did.
He reached for my wrist.
Then every screen in the ballroom turned black.
The lights dimmed.
A low electronic tone filled the room.
Everyone looked up.
A video began playing.
Victor Blackwood appeared on the giant screen above the stage.
Alive.
Sitting behind his desk.
Wearing the same tuxedo.
The same one he was wearing now.
The room went silent.
Damian stared at the screen.
“Dad?”
Victor looked directly into the camera.
“If you're watching this, then I'm already dead.”
Damian's face went pale.
Victor continued.
“And if Elena Vale is standing in that ballroom, then everything has happened exactly as I feared.”
I stared at the screen.
My heart began pounding.
Victor knew my name.
He knew I would be there.
He knew he was going to die.
He had planned this.
“I'm not going to ask anyone to forgive me.”
Victor's voice shook.
“What I did cannot be forgiven.”
Damian whispered:
“What did you do?”
Victor continued.
“Twenty years ago, I built an empire.”
He paused.
“I told myself it was for my family.”
Another pause.
“It wasn't.”
The screen changed.
Photographs appeared.
Documents.
Bank transfers.
Hospital records.
Children.
I felt sick.
The ballroom filled with whispers.
Victor's voice continued.
“My family became a machine.”
“A machine built on fear.”
“Money.”
“Silence.”
“And blood.”
Damian stepped backward.
“No.”
Victor looked directly into the camera.
“Damian, if you're watching this, you need to know something.”
Damian stared.
“You were never my only son.”
The ballroom erupted.
Damian stopped breathing.
“What?”
Victor continued.
“Your sister is alive.”
Everyone looked at me.
I couldn't move.
Victor's voice softened.
“Elena.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“You were told your father abandoned you.”
“You were told he betrayed this family.”
“You were told he died because he couldn't handle his failures.”
Victor lowered his head.
“All of that was a lie.”
My heart broke open.
“My father?”
Victor looked directly into the camera.
“Alexander Vale was murdered.”
A woman screamed.
Someone dropped their phone.
Damian stared at me.
Victor continued.
“And I helped cover it up.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Then he said the words that changed everything.
“I didn't order Alexander's death.”
I frowned.
“I knew who did.”
Victor looked terrified.
“The man who ordered your father's murder is still alive.”
He paused.
“And he is in this room.”
The video stopped.
The screen went black.
Nobody moved.
Chief Harrison looked around the ballroom.
“Lock the doors.”
I almost laughed.
“They're already locked.”
He stared at me.
Then Marcus's phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at me.
“There's a problem.”
“What?”
“The estate cameras just went offline.”
I felt cold.
“How many?”
“All of them.”
“Impossible.”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed toward the ceiling.
“Someone has taken control of the security system.”
Then every phone in the ballroom vibrated simultaneously.
One notification.
One message.
One photograph.
Victor's dead body.
Taken from above.
Everyone looked toward the ceiling.
The photograph had been taken only seconds ago.
Below it were five words:
YOU ARE ALL LOCKED IN.
Damian looked at me.
For the first time, there was no anger in his eyes.
Only fear.
“Who is doing this?”
I looked around the ballroom.
Hundreds of faces.
One killer.
And somewhere among them was the person who had murdered my father.
I slowly reached into my purse.
My fingers closed around the old silver watch my father had left me.
I had carried it for twelve years.
I had never opened the back.
Tonight, I finally did.
Inside was a tiny hidden compartment.
And inside that compartment...
was a memory card.
I stared at it.
A note was wrapped around it.
My father's handwriting.
Only six words.
DO NOT TRUST THE MAN BESIDE YOU.
I looked at Marcus.
He looked at me.
Then Damian.
Then Chief Harrison.
And suddenly I realized something terrifying.
My father's warning wasn't about one of them.
It was about all of them.
Because somewhere inside this ballroom...
someone had been waiting twelve years for me to come home.
May you like
And now that I had finally returned...
they were ready to make sure I never left.
