Chapter 2 - THE SOUND BEHIND THE WALL
Adrian Moretti didn't move.
For several seconds, the only sound was rain striking the tall windows at the end of the corridor.
Then he slowly lowered his phone.
"What did you hear?"
I glanced toward the staircase.
"Please don't call Dean."
His expression changed.
"Why would I call Dean?"
"Because he's the head of your night security."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"Tell me everything."
I swallowed.
"Three nights ago, I was cleaning the east gallery. I heard two men arguing inside the old music room."
"Which men?"
"I recognized Dean's voice."
Adrian said nothing.
"The other man sounded older. I couldn't see his face."
"What were they arguing about?"
I looked down at my hands.
"They said something about Thursday."
Adrian's eyes sharpened.
"Thursday?"
I nodded.
"One of them said the west gate would be opened at two in the morning."
The silence grew heavier.
"Then Dean said something about the security cameras."
"What exactly?"
My voice trembled.
"He said nobody would notice a six-minute interruption."
Adrian stood.
I flinched.
He noticed immediately.
"Claire."
I looked up.
"You're not in trouble."
I wanted to believe him.
But I had spent three weeks learning that in this house, power belonged to men who carried guns.
And I had just accused one of those men of betrayal.
Adrian walked to the window.
Lightning illuminated his face.
"Did you tell anyone?"
"No."
"Did Dean see you?"
"I don't think so."
"Then why did he start coming to your room?"
I hesitated.
"Because I dropped something."
"What?"
"My cleaning cart hit the wall. He came out of the music room and saw me standing there."
Adrian turned.
"What did you say?"
"That I was polishing the hallway."
"And he believed you?"
"I don't know."
Adrian looked toward the fireplace poker lying beside my blanket.
Then he did something unexpected.
He took off his jacket and placed it around my shoulders.
"You're freezing."
I stared at him.
"Mr. Moretti—"
"Adrian."
I blinked.
"What?"
"When we're speaking privately, call me Adrian."
He crouched again.
"Claire, how long have you been afraid to sleep?"
I tried to answer.
Instead, tears spilled down my cheeks.
His expression hardened.
Not at me.
At the realization that someone under his roof had been terrorizing a woman who worked for him.
He stood and opened his bedroom door.
"Come inside."
I froze.
He noticed.
"The sitting room," he clarified. "You can stay there while I arrange somewhere safe for you."
I slowly followed.
His bedroom suite was enormous.
Dark wood.
Floor-to-ceiling windows.
A fireplace.
A sitting area larger than my childhood apartment.
Adrian brought me a glass of water.
Then he made a call.
"Marco."
A pause.
"Come to my private floor. Alone."
Another pause.
"And don't tell Dean."
My stomach dropped.
Adrian ended the call.
Then looked at me.
"Claire."
"Yes?"
"You're going to tell me everything you remember."
I nodded.
He pulled a chair opposite mine.
"And this time, nobody is going to interrupt you."
For the first time in days, I felt something other than fear.
Relief.
But neither of us knew that the danger was already much closer than the west gate.
May you like
Because beneath Adrian's bedroom, behind a sealed service wall, someone had been preparing a second entrance into the mansion.
And the six-minute camera interruption was only the beginning.
