CHAPTER 3: SOMEONE WAS WATCHING THE ROMANO MANSION
CHAPTER 3: SOMEONE WAS WATCHING THE ROMANO MANSION
The security office beneath the Romano estate was one of the few places in the mansion without windows.
Eight monitors covered an entire wall.
Every gate.
Every hallway.
Every entrance.
Every inch of the property was recorded twenty-four hours a day.
Marco Vitale, Dominic Romano's head of security and a former Marine intelligence officer, frowned as he replayed the foyer footage for the fourth time.
Not because of Beatrice.
Because of Leo.
He enlarged the frame.
There it was.
The tiny smile.
Marco had protected the Romano family for six years.
He had watched Leo become almost completely silent after the death of his mother, Isabella Romano. The child no longer laughed. Barely slept. Refused to speak to strangers. Sometimes he would sit in the same chair for hours, staring through the windows as if waiting for someone who would never come home.
Every specialist had failed.
Yet five minutes with a nervous nanny...
...and something impossible had happened.
Marco reached for the intercom.
"Mr. Romano."
Dominic's voice answered immediately.
"Yes?"
"I think you should come downstairs."
Five minutes later, Dominic stood in front of the monitors.
Marco replayed the recording again.
Beatrice dropping her portfolio.
The crayons scattering.
The coffee spilling.
Leo appearing behind Dominic.
Then...
The smile.
Dominic watched in complete silence.
Marco paused the footage.
"There."
He pointed toward the upper-right corner.
Dominic narrowed his eyes.
One of the exterior cameras had captured a black SUV parked beyond the estate gates.
It had remained motionless for almost twenty minutes.
The license plate couldn't be seen.
"What time?" Dominic asked.
"She arrived at 10:38."
"The SUV arrived at 10:31."
"It left thirty-two seconds after Leo smiled."
Dominic's expression darkened.
"They weren't watching Beatrice."
Marco nodded.
"They were watching Leo."
The room fell silent.
Someone had been observing the Romano mansion.
Waiting.
Recording.
And the moment Leo smiled...
They disappeared.
Upstairs, Beatrice knew nothing about the mysterious vehicle.
She was following Leo through hallways larger than her entire apartment.
Paintings worth millions lined the walls.
Crystal chandeliers reflected sunlight across polished marble.
Everything looked perfect.
Everything felt lonely.
Leo stopped outside a white door.
He pushed it open.
Beatrice gasped.
The playroom was enormous.
Shelves overflowed with toys still inside their boxes.
A miniature castle stood in one corner.
A train set stretched across half the room.
Books.
Building blocks.
Stuffed animals.
Tiny sports cars.
Everything a child could ever want.
Nothing looked used.
It wasn't a playroom.
It was a museum of expensive loneliness.
Leo walked past every toy.
He sat on the floor beside a large window.
Curled into himself.
Silent again.
Beatrice slowly sat a few feet away.
She didn't speak.
She had learned something while volunteering with children recovering from trauma.
Silence wasn't always empty.
Sometimes silence was trust.
Several minutes passed.
Finally she pulled another orange crayon from her bag.
"I always carry extras."
Leo looked up.
"I lose them constantly."
She smiled sheepishly.
"I once found one in my refrigerator."
No reaction.
"I still don't know how it got there."
A tiny blink.
"So... I decided life is easier if I buy crayons in bulk."
She placed one on the carpet between them.
Not too close.
Not too far.
An invitation.
Not a demand.
Leo stared at it.
Then, after nearly a minute...
He crawled forward.
Picked it up.
And placed it carefully back into her hand.
Beatrice blinked.
"For me?"
Leo nodded once.
Then he pointed toward a sheet of blank paper lying on a nearby table.
"You want us to draw together?"
Another nod.
She smiled warmly.
"I'd love that."
Downstairs, Dominic stood in his study reading a thick file.
The cover read:
BEATRICE MILLER
Age: 30.
Education: Bachelor's degree in Early Childhood Development.
Former preschool teacher.
Volunteer at children's grief center.
No criminal record.
Outstanding recommendations.
Reason for leaving previous position:
Budget cuts.
He turned another page.
Medical history.
Nothing unusual.
Financial records.
Student loans.
Late rent payments.
Credit card debt.
Dominic closed the folder.
Nothing about her explained what had happened with Leo.
Nothing.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
Marco entered.
"We have another problem."
Dominic looked up.
"What now?"
Marco placed a tablet on the desk.
"I ran facial recognition on everyone who entered the property today."
"And?"
"One face wasn't in our system."
Dominic frowned.
"The florist?"
"No."
"The delivery driver?"
"No."
Marco zoomed in on a grainy image captured outside the main gate.
A man wearing a baseball cap.
Dark sunglasses.
Holding a phone.
Standing across the street.
Watching the mansion.
"He wasn't there by accident."
Dominic's voice turned cold.
"Who is he?"
Marco hesitated.
"I don't know."
"But..."
He swiped to another image.
The same man.
Standing outside the hospital...
The day Isabella Romano died.
Dominic's blood ran cold.
For the first time in two years...
Someone connected to his wife's mysterious death...
Had returned.
May you like
And they had come back...
The exact day his son smiled again.
