Chương 4
“You thought an invoice meant murder?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“There was a handwritten note attached.”
Victoria stopped breathing.
Adrian saw.
“What note?”
Elena looked at her.
“‘PR approved. Peter handled original.’”
Damian closed his eyes.
It was tiny.
A blink too long.
Adrian turned toward him.
“You knew.”
“I knew there had been footage.”
“You knew.”
“I knew Mother dealt with it.”
“Did you know Peter kept a copy?”
“No.”
That answer came immediately.
It was probably true.
Elena said, “That’s why he panicked when I mentioned Peter.”
Damian looked at her with something close to hatred.
“You called me.”
“I asked if he still lived in Connecticut.”
“You lied about why.”
“I asked one question.”
“You knew exactly what you were doing.”
“No. I didn’t. I thought maybe Peter had been paid to delete footage of reporters getting onto the property. Or maybe there had been some privacy issue. I had no idea what I was looking for.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
The question had pain in it now.
Real pain.
Elena looked down at the flash drive connected to the tablet.
“Because every time Sophia came up, you shut down.”
“I would have listened.”
“You left Thanksgiving dinner two years ago because Damian made a joke about the terrace.”
“I was angry.”
“You drove back to Manhattan alone at eleven at night.”
“I said I was angry.”
“You weren’t angry at Damian.”
Adrian said nothing.
“You were angry at yourself.”
His eyes dropped.
Victoria shifted, suddenly impatient with a conversation she could not control.
“This is becoming sentimental.”
Adrian looked at her.
She stopped.
Elena continued.
“I called Peter because I wanted to know what the note meant. He refused to talk to me. Then two weeks ago he called back.”
“Why?”
“His wife died in February.”
Adrian’s expression softened with recognition.
“Joan.”
Elena nodded.
“Peter said she had spent seven years telling him that keeping quiet was still a choice. After she died, he started going through his things. He found the drive in a locked toolbox.”
Damian scoffed.
“And suddenly discovered a conscience.”
Elena looked at him.
“No. He still sounded terrified.”
“Of what?”
“Your mother.”
Victoria gave a small, disgusted shake of her head.
“That man accepted a generous retirement arrangement.”
“He called it hush money.”
“I don’t care what he called it.”
“He did.”
“He took it.”
That landed differently.
Not because it excused Victoria.
Because it was human.
Peter had taken the money.
Elena had heard the shame in his voice when he admitted it.
He had not been waiting seven years as a noble witness. He had been living in a small coastal town, collecting checks, repairing boat engines for neighbors, and pretending the decision he made in a security room after midnight belonged to another version of himself.
Adrian sat again.
This time farther from Elena.
“What did he tell you?”
“That after Sophia fell, your mother ordered him to shut down the terrace cameras.”
Victoria said, “I ordered him to preserve the family’s privacy.”
“He said you ordered him to erase the footage.”
“I was in shock.”
“He said you offered him money the next morning.”
Victoria’s voice sharpened.
“Peter had worked for us for nineteen years. His retirement was already planned.”
“Six months later.”
“Exactly.”
“He said you moved it forward.”
“So?”
Elena looked at Adrian.
“He made a copy before deleting the system.”
Adrian glanced at the drive.
“Why?”
“Because he thought Damian might be charged and he didn’t want to become the person blamed for destroying the only record.”
Damian said, “Convenient.”
“It was cowardly,” Elena said.
Damian blinked.
“He agrees.”
That silenced him more effectively than defending Peter would have.
Elena leaned back against the upholstered headboard.
The room tilted briefly.
Adrian was beside her immediately.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What happened?”
“Just dizzy.”
“We’re calling a doctor.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“I haven’t eaten since lunch.”
Every person in the room went still.
Adrian turned toward Damian.
Damian lifted both hands.
“Oh, come on. There was food in here.”
“A fruit plate,” Elena said.
“There was food.”
“I threw up at six.”
Adrian looked at the untouched tray on the console.
Three strawberries.
Orange slices.
A small glass bottle of sparkling water.
The rage returned.
Not loudly.
That made it worse.
He crossed to the wall panel and pressed the intercom.
“Daniel.”
A male voice responded instantly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Bring Dr. Ames up. Food too. Something plain. Soup, toast, whatever the kitchen can do in five minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And call the police.”
Victoria stepped forward.
“No.”
Adrian looked at her.
The security officer on the intercom said, “Sir?”
Adrian’s eyes stayed on his mother.
“Call the police.”
“Adrian, think.”
He pressed the button again.
“Daniel. Police. Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Damian swore under his breath.
Victoria’s shoulders dropped.
Not dramatically.
Just enough to show the weight she had carried for seven years finally shifting somewhere she could no longer hold it.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” she said.
Adrian walked back to the bed.
“No. I have a pretty good idea.”
“The first thing Damian will tell them is that you struck him.”
“I did.”
“That gives him leverage.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will care tomorrow.”
“Probably.”
“Your board will care.”
“Then they can care.”
“The press will care.”
“They always do.”
“Your investors—”
“Mother.”
“What?”
“My wife is eight months pregnant. Your son locked her in a room and put his hands on her because she found evidence that he lied about Sophia’s death.”
Victoria’s mouth trembled.
He went on.
“I’m done discussing the stock price.”
Damian looked toward the locked door.
“You’re going to regret making this official.”
Adrian said, “Maybe.”
Damian gave him a disbelieving look.
May you like
The answer unsettled him.
Adrian had spent most of his adult life projecting certainty. Employees joked that he could make a restaurant reservation sound like a hostile acquisition. He hated being seen reconsidering anything. Elena had watched him argue positions he no longer believed because changing his mind in front of other people felt too much like surrender.
