Chapter 3: The Voice in the Shadows
The woman’s voice haunted Victor long after the recording ended.
He replayed it seven times.
Seven times, he sat alone in his office with the lights off, listening to the same sentence echo through the speakers.
“Make sure the boy never reaches his eighteenth birthday.””
The first time he heard it, he felt anger.
The second time, disbelief.
By the seventh time, something much worse settled in.
Fear.
Not fear for himself.
Victor Romano had faced threats before. He had received anonymous letters, hostile business attacks, and warnings from people who wanted pieces of his empire.
But those threats had always come from strangers.
Enemies outside the walls.
This was different.
This person had been inside his home.
Inside his family.
Close enough to watch Adrian grow up.
Close enough to know exactly where to hurt him.
I found Victor standing by the bookshelf at three in the morning.
He wasn’t drinking.
He wasn’t sleeping.
He was holding an old photograph.
A photograph of Adrian as a toddler, sitting on his mother’s lap.
“You should be resting,” I said quietly.
Victor didn’t turn around.
“Do you remember when Adrian first came home?””
I walked closer.
“Yes.””
“He was two years old.””
Victor smiled faintly.
“He wouldn’t let go of my jacket.””
The memory softened his face.
“He was scared of the house. Everything was too big. The ceilings.
The rooms. The people.””
He looked down at the photograph.
“He asked me if he could sleep on the floor next to my bed because his room was too far away.””
I smiled sadly.
“And you let him.””
“Of course I did.””
Victor’s voice cracked slightly.
“I promised him nobody would ever hurt him.””
The silence afterward was painful.
Because both of us knew someone had.
Someone had hurt him while Victor was standing only a few rooms away.
“I should have seen it,” Victor whispered.
“You trusted people.””
“I trusted the wrong people.””
I wanted to argue.
But I couldn’t.
Because Victor wasn’t blaming himself for trusting.
He was blaming himself for failing to protect his son.
The next morning, the Romano mansion felt completely different.
The same servants walked through the halls.
The same paintings hung on the walls.
The same expensive furniture filled every room.
But the illusion was gone.
Everyone was watching everyone.
Security guards searched areas they had walked through hundreds of times before.
Employees whispered in corners.
No one knew who could be trusted.
At nine o’clock, Victor called everyone into the main hall.
The entire household gathered.
Thomas was missing.
Elena was under investigation.
Marcus Bellini had stopped answering calls.
And Victor was done pretending everything was normal.
He stood at the center of the room.
“Someone inside this house betrayed my family.””
Nobody spoke.
Victor’s eyes moved across the employees.
“I spent years believing loyalty was something money could not buy.””
He paused.
“Apparently, I was wrong.””
Elena stood near the staircase.
She looked annoyed rather than frightened.
“You’re humiliating innocent people.””
Victor looked at her.
“You stopped caring about innocence when you made a child eat from the ground.””
Several servants lowered their eyes.
Elena’s face tightened.
“You’re still emotional.””
“No.””
Victor stepped forward.
“I’m finally seeing clearly.””
Before Elena could respond, the front doors opened.
Two investigators entered.
Behind them was Marcus Bellini.
The room froze.
Marcus looked exhausted.
His expensive suit was wrinkled.
His normally perfect appearance was gone.
For the first time, he looked like a man who had lost control.
Victor stared at him.
“You came back.””
Marcus looked around the room.
“Victor, listen to me.””
“No.””
Victor’s voice was cold.
“You listen to me.””
Marcus swallowed.
“I know what you saw.””
“Do you?””
“Yes.””
“Then you know why you’re standing here.””
Marcus looked at Adrian.
The boy was hiding behind me.
And that was the first thing Victor noticed.
The first thing everyone noticed.
Adrian was afraid of him.
Marcus saw it too.
His expression changed.
“Adrian…”
The boy stepped backward.
Victor immediately moved between them.
“Don’t.””
Marcus looked hurt.
“I would never hurt him.””
Victor laughed bitterly.
“You expect me to believe that?””
“Yes.””
Marcus’s voice became desperate.
“Because I didn’t do what you think I did.””
The investigator stepped forward.
“Mr. Bellini, we need you to answer some questions.””
Marcus nodded.
But his eyes stayed on Victor.
“You have no idea what Elena was planning.””
Victor’s expression hardened.
“You were helping her.””
“No.””
Marcus shook his head.
“I was trying to stop her.””
Nobody moved.
The accusation hung in the air.
Victor stared at him.
“Then explain.””
Marcus looked around.
“Not here.””
Victor stepped closer.
“You don’t get to decide that anymore.””
Marcus lowered his voice.
“She has someone else.””
Victor froze.
“We know.””
“No.””
Marcus looked at him.
“You don’t.””
The room became silent.
Marcus continued.
“Elena wasn’t the person controlling this.””
Victor’s eyes narrowed.
“Then who was?””
Marcus looked toward the staircase.
Toward the upper floors.
Toward the private rooms where the Romano family kept their most personal belongings.
Then he said something nobody expected.
“The person behind this has been planning it for years.””
I felt a chill.
“Who?””
Marcus looked at Adrian.
Then at Victor.
“The person who knows the most about this family.””
Victor’s face changed.
“Say the name.””
Marcus hesitated.
That hesitation was enough to make everyone nervous.
Finally, he spoke.
“Isabella Romano.””
The room exploded with whispers.
Victor went completely still.
Isabella.
His younger sister.
The woman who had helped raise Adrian after his mother died.
The woman who had brought him gifts.
The woman Adrian called Aunt Bella.
“That’s impossible,” Victor said.
Marcus shook his head.
“I wish it was.””
Victor walked toward him.
“You’re lying.””
“I’m not.””
“Why would Isabella want Adrian gone?””
Marcus looked down.
“Because Adrian’s existence threatens everything she believes belongs to her.””
Victor stared.
“What does that mean?””
Marcus took a deep breath.
“Your father’s original will.””
The words changed everything.
Victor’s expression shifted.
“What about it?””
“Your father changed it before he died.””
Victor went silent.
Everyone knew the story.
Years ago, Victor’s father had built the foundation of the Romano empire. After his death, Victor inherited control.
But there had always been rumors.
Rumors about a second version of the will.
A document nobody had ever seen.
Marcus continued.
“The original agreement protected Adrian.””
Victor looked confused.
“Protected him from what?””
“From anyone trying to take control before he became an adult.””
The investigator frowned.
“Explain.””
Marcus looked at Victor.
“If something happened to Adrian, the estate wouldn’t automatically pass through the family.””
Victor’s eyes narrowed.
“Where would it go?””
Marcus answered quietly.
“To a foundation controlled by someone outside the Romano bloodline.””
A cold silence filled the hall.
Victor understood.
Someone wasn’t trying to remove Adrian because they hated him.
They were trying to remove him because he was standing between them and control.
“Who gets control if Adrian disappears?”” Victor asked.
Marcus looked away.
Then he answered.
“Isabella.””
The mansion suddenly felt much larger.
And much darker.
Because the enemy wasn’t just someone inside the house.
It was someone who had keys to every door.
Someone who knew every family secret.
Someone Adrian trusted enough to run into her arms.
Victor walked upstairs without another word.
“Where are you going?”” I asked.
He stopped.
“To check something.””
“What?””
He looked back.
“Adrian’s room.””
The words confused me.
“Why?””
Victor’s face had gone pale.
“Because if Isabella has been planning this for years…”
He looked toward the hallway.
“…then she may have already left us proof.””
We followed him upstairs.
Victor entered Adrian’s room slowly.
The boy’s toys were neatly arranged.
His books sat on the shelf.
Everything looked normal.
Until Victor noticed the painting above the bed.
A small family portrait.
Adrian.
Victor.
Isabella.
And Elena.
Victor stared at it.
Then he reached behind the frame.
His fingers touched something hidden.
A small envelope.
No name.
No label.
Only one word written across the front.
“Victor.””
He opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
And as he read the first line, all color disappeared from his face.
Because the letter had not been written by Isabella.
It had been written by Adrian.
May you like
And the first sentence said:
“Dad, I’m sorry I lied about what happened the night Mom died.””
