Chapter 10 — The Child's Drawing
Chapter 10 — The Child's Drawing
Mia had been drawing the same door for three days.
Elena noticed it first.
The little girl sat beneath the tall window in the servants' quarters, knees pulled against her chest, a sheet of white paper balanced on her lap.
She did not speak.
She almost never did.
Her mother, Elena, had learned to understand the language of her hands.
A raised finger meant danger.
Two fingers meant someone was coming.
A closed fist meant no.
And when Mia became frightened, she drew.
That morning, she drew a door.
Again.
A black door beneath a staircase.
A small red circle above it.
And two figures standing inside.
One had long dark hair.
The other was a man.
Mia pressed her pencil so hard into the paper that the tip broke.
Elena looked at the drawing.
Then at her daughter.
"Mia..."
The child shook her head violently.
She pointed at the woman in the drawing.
Then pointed toward the main house.
Serena.
Elena's stomach tightened.
"What did you see?"
Mia raised one finger.
Then pointed toward the basement.
Elena stared at her.
"The basement?"
Mia nodded.
Then she drew another door.
This one had a number on it.
17.
Lorenzo was standing in the library when Elena found him.
He had been awake for nearly thirty hours.
The events of the previous night had changed everything.
Matteo remained in the hospital.
Rafael had disappeared.
Serena was missing.
His mother had vanished again.
And somewhere inside the estate, someone had left a list marking Matteo as victim number two.
Lorenzo stood before the security monitors.
Every camera was being replaced.
Every employee was being questioned.
Every entrance was guarded.
The estate had become a prison.
Except Lorenzo no longer knew who was the prisoner.
He turned when Elena entered.
"What happened?"
Elena held out the drawing.
"Mia made this."
Lorenzo looked down.
At first, he saw nothing more than a child's picture.
A door.
A staircase.
Two people.
Then he noticed the number.
His expression changed.
"Where did she see this?"
Elena shook her head.
"I don't know."
"Mia."
The child stepped into the room.
Lorenzo crouched.
He had seen her before.
The silent daughter of one of the estate's maids.
The child who had tried to warn him about the poisoned wine.
The child whose hands had saved his life.
He held out the drawing.
"Did you see this room?"
Mia stared at him.
Then nodded.
"Where?"
She pointed toward the floor.
The basement.
Lorenzo stood.
"Marco."
His security chief entered immediately.
"Boss."
"Bring the old estate blueprints."
Marco frowned.
"Why?"
"Now."
The blueprints arrived ten minutes later.
Lorenzo spread them across the library table.
The Duca estate had been renovated several times.
Four floors above ground.
Two underground levels.
A wine cellar.
A security bunker.
A generator room.
Storage tunnels.
But there was no room seventeen.
No hidden door beneath the main staircase.
No chamber marked beneath the east wing.
Lorenzo looked at Mia.
She shook her head.
Then she walked toward the library wall.
She placed her hand against it.
Three taps.
Then two.
Then three.
Lorenzo stared.
Marco stepped forward.
"There's nothing behind that wall."
Mia shook her head.
She pointed downward.
Lorenzo followed her finger.
At the base of the wall was a narrow wooden molding.
He knelt.
The molding looked ordinary.
But one section had been scratched recently.
Lorenzo pressed it.
Nothing happened.
Mia reached forward.
She touched a small brass ornament.
Then twisted it.
A click sounded.
Everyone froze.
The wall moved.
Not much.
Only an inch.
But enough.
A hidden seam appeared.
Marco immediately drew his weapon.
Lorenzo stared at the opening.
"How long has that been here?"
Elena whispered:
"Longer than this house has belonged to us."
The hidden passage descended.
Cold air rose from below.
Lorenzo took the lead.
Marco followed.
Two guards came behind them.
Elena stayed upstairs with Mia.
The staircase was narrow.
Stone walls.
No lights.
Only small recessed lamps that activated as they moved.
At the bottom was a steel door.
There was a number painted across it.
17.
Lorenzo stared.
The same number from Mia's drawing.
Marco examined the lock.
"Electronic."
"Can you open it?"
"Give me a minute."
Lorenzo shook his head.
"Don't."
Marco looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because if someone built this room to hide from us, they may have built it to kill whoever finds it."
Marco understood.
He scanned the walls.
"No visible traps."
Lorenzo stepped toward the door.
Then stopped.
Something was scratched into the metal.
A sentence.
Almost invisible.
THE FIRST RULE: NEVER COME ALONE.
Lorenzo looked at Marco.
"Looks like we're invited."
The door opened.
Inside was a room that shouldn't have existed.
No dust.
No decay.
Someone had been using it.
A desk stood in the center.
Two chairs faced each other.
A coffee machine rested in the corner.
A small refrigerator hummed quietly.
And on the wall...
photographs.
Dozens of them.
Lorenzo walked closer.
His blood went cold.
The photographs showed him.
Leaving the house.
Entering restaurants.
Meeting politicians.
Speaking with Serena.
Sleeping in his bedroom.
Walking through the hospital.
Some were recent.
Some were years old.
Marco stared.
"Someone has been watching you."
Lorenzo didn't answer.
He moved to the desk.
A small camera sat there.
Still recording.
Beside it was a notebook.
He opened it.
Every page contained dates.
Times.
Locations.
His movements.
His symptoms.
His conversations.
Even his meals.
Then he saw a page dated four months earlier.
SUBJECT BEGINS REPORTING AUDITORY DISTORTION.
Another:
DOSAGE INCREASED.
Another:
HEARING LOSS PROGRESSING.
Then:
SUBJECT SUSPECTS NOTHING.
Lorenzo's fingers tightened around the paper.
Marco whispered:
"They've been tracking every symptom."
Lorenzo turned the page.
The final entry was only two days old.
SUBJECT DISCOVERS THE CAMERA.
Below it:
ACTIVATE CONTINGENCY.
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
"What contingency?"
A sound came from behind them.
A soft mechanical click.
Marco spun.
The door had locked.
Lorenzo rushed toward it.
Marco tried the control panel.
"Locked from outside."
"Break it."
"I need tools."
Lorenzo stepped back.
Then stopped.
Something on the desk had caught his eye.
A red folder.
He opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Serena.
Standing in this exact room.
Beside her was a man.
Lorenzo stared at the photograph.
The man was facing away from the camera.
But Lorenzo recognized the suit.
The posture.
The silver watch.
He had seen it before.
In the old recording of his father.
Salvatore Romano.
Lorenzo's face became expressionless.
Marco looked over his shoulder.
"Is that—"
"Yes."
"When was this taken?"
Lorenzo flipped the photograph over.
A date had been written on the back.
Three years ago.
Three years.
The exact year Serena had first entered Lorenzo's life.
The exact year she had begun dating him.
The exact year she had supposedly fallen in love with him.
Lorenzo's eyes hardened.
"She met her father here."
Marco looked around.
"Inside your house."
"Yes."
"And nobody knew."
"Apparently."
Lorenzo opened the next photograph.
Serena was there again.
But this time she was standing beside someone else.
A woman.
Older.
Gray hair.
Lorenzo froze.
His mother.
Elena.
The date was twelve years earlier.
The same year Antonio died.
Lorenzo stared at the image.
His mother.
Salvatore Romano.
Serena.
All connected.
All inside the same hidden room.
A noise came from the ceiling.
Lorenzo looked up.
A small speaker crackled.
Then Serena's voice filled the room.
"You weren't supposed to find that."
Lorenzo stared at the speaker.
"Where are you?"
A soft laugh answered.
"Closer than you think."
"Show yourself."
"Not yet."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
"Why poison me?"
Silence.
Then:
"Because you were becoming dangerous."
"To whom?"
"To the truth."
Lorenzo stepped closer to the speaker.
"You killed my father."
"I didn't."
"You helped."
Another silence.
Then Serena said:
"Your father knew what would happen if you ever discovered who you really were."
Lorenzo froze.
"What does that mean?"
"You still believe Antonio Duca was your father."
Lorenzo's face darkened.
"Who is my father?"
Serena laughed softly.
"Ask Elena."
Lorenzo looked at Marco.
"Get my mother."
"We don't know where she is."
"Find her."
The speaker went silent.
Then Serena said:
"Too late."
A red light appeared on the wall.
A countdown began.
00:30
Marco stared.
"What the hell?"
Lorenzo looked around.
"Bomb?"
"Maybe."
"Open the door."
"I can't."
00:25
Lorenzo searched the room.
Then Mia's drawing came back to him.
The child had drawn something else.
A tiny circle.
A line beneath it.
He looked toward the ceiling.
"There."
A ventilation panel.
Marco climbed onto the desk.
He ripped it open.
Behind it was a narrow passage.
"Move!"
They climbed through.
00:12
Lorenzo pulled Marco behind him.
The passage led upward.
They crawled.
00:07
Lorenzo pushed against a metal grate.
It opened.
They fell into the basement.
00:02
The hidden room exploded.
The blast shook the entire house.
Smoke filled the basement.
Lorenzo hit the floor.
For several seconds, he couldn't hear anything.
Then a small hand grabbed his sleeve.
Mia.
She stood in the doorway.
Her face was covered in tears.
She pointed toward the burning room.
Then toward the staircase.
Then she drew a finger across her throat.
Someone was coming.
Lorenzo pulled her behind him.
"Marco."
"I'm here."
"Get her upstairs."
"What about you?"
"I'm going back."
Marco stared at him.
"Boss, the room is burning."
"Someone may still be inside."
Lorenzo turned.
He ran toward the smoke.
The hidden room was destroyed.
The desk was burning.
The photographs were falling from the walls.
Lorenzo searched through the flames.
Then he saw something.
A metal box beneath the desk.
He pulled it free.
Inside was a single memory card.
And a photograph.
Lorenzo wiped the ash away.
His breath caught.
The photograph showed Serena.
But she wasn't meeting Salvatore.
She wasn't meeting Elena.
She was meeting someone else.
A man Lorenzo knew.
A man who had been standing beside him at the hospital.
A man who had claimed to be helping him.
Dr. Victor Hale.
The man who supposedly hated the Romano family.
The man who had warned Lorenzo about the poison.
The man who had told him to trust no one.
Lorenzo stared at the photograph.
The date was six months ago.
Victor was alive.
Serena was standing beside him.
And between them was a laboratory case containing the same vials that had been used to poison Lorenzo.
A voice came from behind him.
"You finally found it."
Lorenzo spun.
No one.
Only smoke.
Then his phone vibrated.
A message.
You still haven't figured out who the real traitor is.
Another message appeared.
Victor was never your protector.
Lorenzo stared.
A third message followed.
He was the one who designed the poison.
Lorenzo's blood ran cold.
He looked down at the photograph again.
Then toward the burning room.
The man he had trusted most in the investigation might have been the architect of everything.
But before Lorenzo could process it, another message appeared.
And Mia saw the meeting.
Lorenzo froze.
He looked toward the staircase.
The child was gone.
Marco was gone.
Elena was gone.
Someone had taken Mia.
Lorenzo's expression transformed.
The mystery no longer mattered.
The empire no longer mattered.
The poison no longer mattered.
Only one thing mattered now.
Finding the child who had saved his life.
He ran upstairs.
And for the first time that night, Lorenzo Duca wasn't hunting an enemy.
He was hunting someone who had taken a child.
May you like
And whoever had done it had just made the one mistake no one in the Duca family survived making.
They had given Lorenzo something to fight for.
