Chapter 3: Victoria's Lies
Chapter 3: Victoria's Lies
The mansion had never been so quiet.
For years, silence had meant obedience. Staff members spoke only when spoken to. Doors closed softly. Eyes remained lowered whenever Miss Victoria Ashcroft crossed the marble halls.
Now the silence carried something entirely different.
Expectation.
Everyone knew the rules had changed.
Leon Moretti had ordered every security recording from the previous month to be copied before sunrise. Every phone, every visitor log, every financial record connected to Victoria was placed under review.
He did not accuse her.
He simply wanted the truth.
And truth, he had learned, had a habit of revealing itself when people stopped protecting lies.
Victoria sat alone in the guest suite that had once been prepared as the future mistress's bedroom.
The elegant room suddenly felt like a prison.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Her makeup covered the faint bruise on her wrist where security had removed her jewelry before asking her to remain inside the estate.
Not arrested.
Not trusted.
The distinction mattered little.
A knock came at the door.
"Come in."
It was Arthur Bennett, the family's longtime attorney.
He carried a leather folder beneath his arm.
"Mr. Moretti has requested that you remain on the property until the investigation is complete."
Victoria laughed bitterly.
"Investigation?"
"Into what?"
Arthur calmly opened the folder.
"Several matters."
He slid photographs across the table.
One showed a jewelry receipt worth nearly two hundred thousand dollars.
Another displayed bank transfers made from a charity account established in Emilia's mother's memory.
Victoria's confident smile slowly disappeared.
"There must be some mistake."
Arthur looked at her quietly.
"There are seven signatures."
"They're all yours."
Downstairs, Beatrice organized books in Emilia's playroom while the little girl rested.
She still felt like an outsider.
Even after everything that had happened.
Mrs. Donnelly entered carrying fresh tea.
"You've been avoiding everyone."
Beatrice smiled weakly.
"I don't want people treating me differently."
The older woman chuckled.
"My dear, that ship sailed the moment you stood between a frightened child and danger."
Beatrice sighed.
"I only wish someone had done the same for me when I was little."
Mrs. Donnelly gently squeezed her shoulder.
"Perhaps that's exactly why you knew what needed to be done."
Meanwhile, Leon sat in his study with Marco Silva, the head of estate security.
A dozen surveillance monitors covered one wall.
Marco pressed a key.
Footage from three nights before the incident appeared.
Victoria entered the west hallway shortly after midnight.
She looked around carefully.
Then she unlocked Leon's private office.
"What was she doing?" Leon asked.
Marco switched to another camera.
Victoria emerged twenty minutes later carrying nothing.
But something caught Leon's attention.
"Pause."
Marco froze the image.
Victoria's left sleeve had shifted slightly.
A small flash drive rested inside her bracelet.
Leon narrowed his eyes.
"Find out what was copied."
The answer came before evening.
Sensitive financial files.
Property ownership documents.
Security schedules.
Names of confidential business contacts.
Nothing illegal.
Everything valuable.
Marco looked up from his laptop.
"Someone offered her a fortune for this information."
Leon leaned back.
"Do we know who?"
Marco hesitated.
"We're still tracing the payments."
"But they didn't come from her family."
"They came from overseas."
Leon remained silent.
If Victoria had been selling information...
The attack on Emilia might not have been an isolated act of cruelty.
It might have been part of something much larger.
That night, Beatrice couldn't sleep.
As she walked through the quiet library, she noticed a photograph lying face down on a table.
It showed Leon with his late wife, Isabella.
They stood on a beach, laughing as baby Emilia reached toward the ocean.
On the back, someone had written in elegant handwriting:
"Protect her heart before you protect your empire."
Beatrice stared at the words.
She wondered if Isabella had somehow understood that power could never replace kindness.
Footsteps interrupted her thoughts.
Leon entered carrying two cups of coffee.
"I had a feeling I wasn't the only one awake."
She smiled apologetically.
"I've always been a terrible sleeper."
He handed her a cup.
"So have I."
For several moments they simply stood beside the window overlooking the gardens.
Finally Leon spoke.
"I've spent years believing betrayal comes from enemies."
He looked toward the dark grounds.
"It never occurred to me that it might arrive wearing a smile."
The following morning, Marco burst into the study.
"We found it."
He connected a laptop to the television.
Hidden camera footage from the kitchen appeared.
The timestamp was from the day before Emilia had been locked in the cellar.
Victoria stood alone, speaking on the phone.
Her voice was calm.
Cold.
"No," she said.
"The child trusts the maid more than anyone."
She paused.
"I'll deal with both of them."
The recording ended.
No one in the room spoke.
Not because the evidence proved attempted murder.
It didn't.
But it destroyed Victoria's final defense.
Everything she had done had been deliberate.
Calculated.
Planned.
When confronted with the recording, Victoria remained strangely composed.
"You've misunderstood."
Leon looked at her.
"Then explain."
She smiled.
"You still think this is about jealousy."
"It isn't."
"What is it about?"
She stepped closer.
"There are people far more dangerous than me."
"You've built an empire, Leon."
"But empires attract hunters."
She leaned forward.
"You should be asking who wanted access to your house."
Not why I opened the door.
Arthur exchanged a glance with Marco.
The room suddenly felt colder.
Victoria's lies had begun to crumble.
But beneath them waited a far more unsettling truth.
Someone outside the estate had been pulling invisible strings.
And the danger surrounding the Moretti family had only just begun.
Leon watched Victoria in silence.
For the first time since the investigation began, he realized something.
She had not been acting alone.
Whatever storm was approaching...
May you like
The cellar door had merely been the first warning.
End of Chapter 3
