CHAPTER 1 — The Wife Beneath My Roof
CHAPTER 1 — The Wife Beneath My Roof
Julian's hand closed around Victoria Sterling's wrist.
The entire foyer froze.
Victoria stared at him.
For the first time since Julian had entered the estate, she looked genuinely afraid.
"Let go of me."
Julian didn't move.
His eyes remained fixed on hers.
"You kept my wife here."
Victoria swallowed.
"No."
The word came too quickly.
Julian's grip tightened.
"Don't lie to me."
Victoria's face hardened.
"You're making a mistake."
Behind Julian, Clara flinched.
That tiny movement was enough.
Julian immediately released Victoria and turned toward his wife.
Clara had backed against the wall.
Her breathing was shallow.
Her hands were pressed against her chest.
She wasn't afraid of Julian.
She was afraid of what would happen next.
Julian understood something in that instant.
Finding Clara had been the miracle.
But making her feel safe again would be the real battle.
He took one slow step toward her.
"Clara."
She didn't answer.
"Look at me."
Her eyes lifted.
Four years.
Four years of photographs.
Four years of empty hotel rooms.
Four years of detectives.
Four years of airports.
Four years of waking up at three in the morning convinced he had heard her voice.
And now she was standing three feet away.
Alive.
Thin.
Bruised.
Terrified.
Julian's voice broke.
"I'm sorry."
Clara's lips trembled.
"For what?"
He had expected anger.
He had expected accusations.
He had even expected her to hate him.
But that question destroyed him.
"For not finding you."
Clara looked down.
"You did."
Julian frowned.
"What?"
"You did find me."
She slowly looked toward the staircase.
"Four years ago."
Julian went completely still.
Victoria's face changed.
Clara saw it.
And so did Julian.
"You knew?" he whispered.
Victoria stepped backward.
"She's confused."
Clara's eyes filled with tears.
"I'm not confused."
Her voice was weak.
But this time, she didn't lower her head.
"I remember."
Julian turned toward Victoria.
"What happened four years ago?"
Victoria said nothing.
Julian's legal instincts returned.
The same instincts that had built Vance Holdings into one of the most powerful private investment firms in the country.
He pulled out his phone.
"Nobody leaves this house."
The head butler froze.
Julian looked at him.
"Lock the gates."
"Yes, sir."
"Disable every private vehicle."
"Yes, sir."
"Call security."
Victoria laughed nervously.
"You cannot imprison me in my own home."
Julian looked at her.
"This is my home."
Victoria's smile disappeared.
"No."
Julian stepped closer.
"It was always mine."
Twenty minutes later, the estate was sealed.
Every employee had been ordered into the dining room.
Julian's private security team stood at every entrance.
The police were on their way.
But Julian didn't want anyone arrested yet.
Not until he knew exactly what had happened.
Clara sat beside the fireplace.
A physician examined the bruises on her arms.
Julian stood several feet away.
He wanted to touch her.
But he was afraid.
Not of her.
Of frightening her.
The physician quietly said:
"These injuries are old."
Julian's jaw tightened.
"How old?"
"Some are several months old."
He looked at Clara.
She stared into the fire.
"Who did this?"
Clara didn't answer.
The physician continued.
"There are also signs of prolonged malnutrition."
Julian closed his eyes.
Victoria had kept his wife in this house for four years.
And apparently nobody had stopped her.
Nobody.
That thought was almost unbearable.
He looked toward the staff.
"Who knew?"
Silence.
The butler lowered his eyes.
A maid began crying.
Another servant whispered:
"Everyone knew something was wrong."
Julian stared at them.
"Then why didn't anyone tell me?"
Nobody answered.
Finally, an elderly housekeeper stepped forward.
Her name was Margaret.
She had worked for the Vance family for thirty-two years.
"Because Mrs. Sterling told us your wife had lost her memory."
Julian frowned.
"What?"
"She said Clara had suffered a breakdown after the accident."
Clara looked up.
"What accident?"
Margaret's face turned pale.
"The accident four years ago."
Julian slowly turned toward his wife.
"You don't remember?"
Clara shook her head.
"I remember leaving the restaurant."
"Which restaurant?"
"The Bellmont."
Julian's heart stopped.
That was the last place he had seen her.
Four years earlier.
They had argued that night.
Not seriously.
At least, he hadn't thought it was serious.
Clara had been angry because Julian had canceled a trip.
He had promised to meet her afterward.
She had left the restaurant before him.
He arrived at the parking lot twenty minutes later.
Her car was gone.
Her phone was inside.
Her purse was inside.
Clara was gone.
The police had called it a disappearance.
Then came the theory that she had left voluntarily.
Then another theory.
Then another.
Four years of uncertainty.
Four years of hell.
Julian looked at Clara.
"You remember the restaurant?"
She nodded.
"I remember Victoria was there."
Julian turned.
Victoria was standing near the doorway.
Her face was pale.
"That's impossible."
Clara stared at her.
"You came to the restaurant."
Victoria shook her head.
"I never saw you."
"You sat at our table."
"No."
"You were wearing a black dress."
Victoria's breathing changed.
"You had a red purse."
Julian looked at Victoria.
"Did you?"
Victoria said nothing.
Clara continued.
"You told me Julian didn't love me."
Julian's expression hardened.
Victoria whispered:
"She's lying."
Clara's voice trembled.
"You told me he was going to leave me."
"I never said that."
"You told me I was embarrassing him."
Victoria's face became cold.
"She is unstable."
Julian stepped between them.
"Say that again."
Victoria hesitated.
Julian's voice dropped.
"Say it."
Victoria looked away.
Clara suddenly whispered:
"Then you drove me home."
Julian turned.
"What?"
Clara closed her eyes.
"I remember the car."
Her hands began shaking.
"It smelled like roses."
Victoria's eyes widened.
"My car."
Julian stared at her.
"You drove Clara."
Victoria said nothing.
"Where?"
Silence.
"Where did you take her?"
Victoria backed away.
"I don't remember."
Clara suddenly grabbed Julian's sleeve.
He turned immediately.
"Clara?"
Her face had gone white.
"The basement."
Julian froze.
"What basement?"
Clara looked toward the floor.
"There was a room."
Her breathing accelerated.
"No windows."
Julian knelt beside her.
"You're safe."
She shook her head.
"There was a lock."
"Where?"
"Behind the wine cellar."
Julian looked at the butler.
"Show me."
The butler didn't move.
Julian repeated:
"Show me."
The man swallowed.
"Sir..."
"Now."
The butler finally walked toward the hallway.
Victoria suddenly shouted:
"Don't!"
Everyone turned.
The single word betrayed her.
Julian looked at her.
"Why?"
Victoria realized her mistake.
She tried to recover.
"I mean... there's nothing down there."
Julian smiled coldly.
"Then you won't mind if I look."
He followed the butler.
Clara remained beside the fireplace.
Margaret stayed with her.
The hallway seemed longer than Julian remembered.
They reached the wine cellar.
Rows of expensive bottles lined the walls.
The butler walked to the far corner.
He pressed his hand against a wooden panel.
Nothing happened.
Julian stared.
"Open it."
The butler hesitated.
"Sir, I can't."
"Why?"
"Mrs. Sterling has the key."
Julian's eyes narrowed.
"Then call her."
The butler looked terrified.
Julian took out his phone.
"Or I can have the police force it open."
A minute later, Victoria appeared.
She stood at the cellar entrance.
Her face was expressionless.
"You're destroying this family."
Julian looked at her.
"You did that four years ago."
Victoria reached into her pocket.
She pulled out a small brass key.
Clara's voice echoed from behind them.
"That's it."
Julian turned.
She was standing in the doorway.
Her eyes were fixed on the key.
Victoria slowly inserted it.
Click.
The hidden panel opened.
A narrow staircase descended into darkness.
The smell hit Julian first.
Cold concrete.
Old dust.
And something else.
Something that made his stomach twist.
Clara grabbed the railing.
"I was here."
Julian looked down the stairs.
"How long?"
Clara shook her head.
"I don't know."
They descended.
At the bottom was a small room.
A bed.
A sink.
A table.
A chair.
And metal restraints attached to the wall.
Julian stopped breathing.
Clara covered her mouth.
"No..."
Julian stepped forward.
There were scratches on the wall.
Hundreds of them.
Some were shallow.
Some were deep.
And near the floor, carved into the concrete, were four words.
JULIAN, I NEVER LEFT.
Julian touched the letters.
His vision blurred.
Clara had been here.
She had been waiting.
And he had been searching everywhere except home.
He turned toward Victoria.
She stood at the bottom of the stairs.
For once, she had no smile.
No excuse.
No performance.
Julian spoke quietly.
"Why?"
Victoria's eyes hardened.
"Because she was going to take everything from me."
"What?"
"My life."
Clara stared at her.
"I never wanted your life."
Victoria laughed bitterly.
"You took Julian."
"He chose me."
That sentence shattered something inside Victoria.
"You think he loved you?"
Julian stepped forward.
"Enough."
Victoria looked at him.
"You want the truth?"
"Yes."
"You disappeared into that restaurant because you were going to leave him."
Clara shook her head.
"No."
"You told me you were pregnant."
Clara froze.
Julian's head snapped toward his wife.
"Pregnant?"
Clara's face changed.
"I..."
Victoria smiled.
"She was pregnant."
Julian stared at Clara.
"Is that true?"
Clara began crying.
"I was going to tell you."
"When?"
"That night."
Julian felt as if the floor had disappeared beneath him.
Victoria continued.
"But you never got to hear it."
Julian turned toward her.
"What did you do?"
Victoria looked directly into his eyes.
"I made sure she disappeared before she could tell you."
The room went silent.
Julian's voice became almost inaudible.
"What happened to the baby?"
Victoria smiled.
"I don't know."
Clara screamed.
Julian caught her before she fell.
Victoria turned toward the stairs.
"Ask your wife what happened that night."
Julian held Clara tightly.
"Clara."
She was shaking uncontrollably.
"I remember."
"What?"
"The car."
Julian waited.
"Victoria drove me here."
"What happened after?"
Clara closed her eyes.
"Someone else was waiting."
"Who?"
She opened her eyes.
Terror filled them.
"Your father."
Julian froze.
"My father died twelve years ago."
Clara whispered:
"That's what everyone told you."
Julian looked toward Victoria.
Her expression had changed again.
This time, she wasn't afraid.
She was smiling.
And Julian finally understood.
Victoria hadn't been the person controlling the nightmare.
She had only been the person standing in front of it.
Someone else had been behind her.
Someone who had been dead for twelve years.
Someone Julian had spent his entire life trusting.
His father.
The man whose portrait hung above the fireplace.
The man whose funeral Julian had attended.
The man whose company Julian had inherited.
The man who had supposedly died peacefully in his sleep.
Julian stared at the darkness beyond the basement door.
"He's alive."
Victoria didn't answer.
Clara whispered:
"He's been watching you."
Julian felt the blood drain from his face.
"Where?"
Victoria smiled.
Then a voice came from the staircase.
"Right here."
Julian turned.
A man stood at the top of the stairs.
Older.
Gray-haired.
But unmistakable.
Julian's father.
Victor Vance.
Alive.
May you like
And smiling.
To be continued.
