Chapter 3 - Shadows in the East Wing
By Saturday night, the atmosphere inside the Vale mansion had undergone a subtle, miraculous shift.
Hannah had transformed the clinical, imposing estate into something resembling an actual home. The grand drawing room, which had previously looked like an antique museum, was now covered in blanket forts, sofa cushions, and epic LEGO castles. Mason was running through the halls with a wooden spoon pretend-sword, Theo was reading his animal encyclopedia on the velvet rug, and Lucas was actually helping Hannah fold laundry in the morning room.
Dominic had been gone for twenty-four hours, managing his vast, dangerous empire across the city's riverfronts. But every few hours, his chief security officer—a burly, gray-haired man named Viktor who looked like he had survived three separate wars—would wander past the living quarters, his strict demeanor melting whenever he saw the boys laughing.
“I haven't heard music in this house in two years, Miss Reed,” Viktor said softly on Saturday afternoon, leaning against the doorframe as Hannah played a upbeat pop song on her phone while helping the boys paint with watercolors.
“Houses need noise, Viktor,” Hannah said, wiping a streak of blue paint off Mason’s nose. “Otherwise, the ghosts take over.”
Viktor gave a solemn, respectful nod. “Mr. Vale is a harsh man, ma’am. But he loves those boys more than his own life. Don't let Mr. Julian fool you. The boss is fighting monsters so his sons don't have to.”
Hannah looked up, her interest piqued. “What about Julian?”
Viktor’s eyes darted toward the hallway before he leaned in slightly. “Julian Vale remembers when his branch of the family owned fifty percent of the shipping lines. When Dominic took total control five years ago, Julian became an employee instead of an heir. A man with a law degree and an empty pocket is a dangerous thing, Miss Reed. Keep your door locked at night.”
Before Hannah could ask more, Viktor pulled back, straightened his jacket, and walked briskly down the corridor.
That night, at 2:00 AM, Hannah woke up to a strange, metallic clicking sound coming from the east wing corridor.
She sat up instantly in her guest suite bed. The house was dead quiet, save for the hum of the central heating and the distant wind.
Thoughts of Sophie, waiting in Queens, flashed through her mind. She needed this job. She needed this peace. If there was an intruder or a problem in the house, she wasn't going to hide under her blankets.
She slipped on a thick cardigan, picked up a heavy brass flashlight from her nightstand, and opened her bedroom door.
The east wing housed Dominic’s private offices, the family archives, and the heavy iron security vault where the family’s legal and commercial papers were kept. The hallway was dark, illuminated only by the faint green status lights of the security motion sensors.
As Hannah tiptoed past the library, she noticed the door to Dominic’s private study was cracked open two inches. A faint beam of light cut across the dark hardwood floor.
She approached quietly, holding her breath, her hand tightening around the brass flashlight.
Inside the study, a figure in a dark coat stood before the hidden wall safe behind Dominic’s portrait. The heavy steel door of the safe was swung open. The figure was rapidly flipping through a stack of black leather-bound ledgers, taking high-resolution photographs of each page with a specialized handheld scanner.
Hannah caught a glimpse of silver cufflinks catching the desk lamp light.
Julian.
Hannah’s breath hitched. Julian wasn't just working late; he was copying confidential ledgers—the very documents that could destroy Dominic’s entire operation if leaked to federal prosecutors or rival families.
Suddenly, her foot brushed against an antique brass umbrella stand near the doorframe.
CLANG.
The sound echoed like a gunshot through the silent study.
Julian froze. He turned instantly, the scanner disappearing into his coat pocket as his hand reached inside his jacket with terrifying speed.
Hannah backed up two steps, her flashlight beam shining directly into his face.
“Julian,” she said, her voice shaking slightly despite her best efforts. “What are you doing in here?”
Julian stepped out of the shadows, his face contorted into a cold, lethal sneer. The smooth, polished lawyer was gone; in his place stood a desperate, cornered predator.
“You’re very noisy for a nanny, Miss Reed,” Julian whispered, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. “You should be in bed, dreaming about your cheap apartment in Queens.”
“Those are Dominic’s files,” Hannah said, standing her ground and keeping the flashlight beam locked on his eyes. “You’re leaking information.”
Julian let out a quiet, mocking chuckle. “Leaking? No, Hannah. I’m selling. The Chicago syndicate is offering fifteen million dollars for the Red Hook shipping manifests. Dominic is soft. He’s trying to turn a legitimate empire into an orphanage because his precious wife died. He’s ruining everything my family built.”
He reached out with blinding speed, grabbing Hannah’s wrist in an iron grip and forcing the flashlight down.
“Now,” Julian hissed, his pale eyes burning into hers, “you are going to walk back to your room, pack your little suitcase, and pretend you saw nothing. Because if you say one word to Dominic, I won't just ruin your life—I’ll make sure child protective services finds twenty grams of heroin planted in your Queens apartment tomorrow morning. You’ll never see your daughter again.”
Hannah felt a cold spike of absolute horror run through her veins. Mentioning Sophie was his biggest mistake.
A mother fighting for her child doesn't negotiate.
Without a second’s hesitation, Hannah swung her free hand, smashing the heavy brass end of the flashlight directly into the side of Julian’s jaw.
CRACK.
May you like
Julian gasped in shock, staggering backward into a glass display cabinet, which shattered with a deafening roar.
“VIKTOR!” Hannah screamed at the top of her lungs, turning and sprinting down the dark corridor toward the boys' bedrooms. “VIKTOR! SECURITY!”
