Chapter 3 - THE LOG THAT SHOULD NOT EXIST
By eight-thirty that morning, Bellucci Estate was locked down.
Nobody used that phrase.
They didn’t need to.
The front gate stopped opening.
Security officers appeared at every entrance.
Staff members were quietly told to remain on the property until they had been interviewed.
Damian canceled three meetings.
Selene called someone from the upstairs balcony and lowered her voice whenever anyone approached.
And I sat in the staff office with Lily beside me wondering how an empty chair had somehow led to stolen legal documents and disabled security cameras.
Lily swung her feet nervously.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“Because I went into dinner?”
“No.”
“Is Mr. Bellucci mad?”
I looked through the glass wall.
Damian stood thirty feet away speaking to Luca.
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened.
“But not at you.”
She accepted that.
Children sometimes accept emotional truths faster than adults.
At nine, Luca questioned me.
Had I ever entered the archive?
No.
Had Selene ever asked me about Damian’s private papers?
No.
Had anyone asked where my locker was?
I hesitated.
“Three weeks ago, Mr. Pike asked which locker belonged to me.”
Luca stopped writing.
“Gerard Pike?”
Bellucci Maritime’s chief financial officer.
Fifty-two.
Always immaculate.
Always friendly to staff in the deliberate way some powerful people become friendly when they want witnesses to describe them that way later.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said someone had left an envelope for payroll.”
“Was there an envelope?”
“Yes.”
“What was inside?”
“My overtime statement.”
Luca’s expression tightened.
“Did Pike personally deliver it?”
“I don’t know.”
Damian entered without knocking.
“What did you just say about Pike?”
I repeated it.
Damian and Luca exchanged a look.
Gerard Pike had attended dinner.
He had been seated four chairs from Selene.
At 8:17 p.m., however, he was not at the table.
Luca pulled up the dining-room footage.
There.
8:14.
Pike excused himself.
8:24.
Pike returned.
Ten minutes.
Exactly enough time to walk from the dining room to the archive, open it, take a folder, and return.
“Search his access history,” Damian said.
“We already did,” Luca replied. “Nothing unusual.”
“Phone location?”
“Corporate security is pulling it.”
I sat perfectly still.
Damian looked at me.
“Mara.”
“Yes?”
“Until I know what happened, you and Lily stay here.”
My stomach tightened.
“Am I being detained?”
His expression changed immediately.
“No.”
“Because it sounds like it.”
“You’re right.”
He rubbed a hand over his face.
“I’m sorry. You can leave whenever you want. I’m asking you not to because someone used your locker to frame you.”
That was the first moment I understood Damian Bellucci was frightened.
Not of the law.
Not of losing money.
Of not knowing who inside his own house he could trust.
“I’ll stay,” I said.
Selene appeared in the doorway.
“How touching.”
Damian turned.
She had changed into a cream suit.
Perfect makeup.
Perfect hair.
Only her hands betrayed her.
She kept twisting her engagement ring.
“My father’s attorney is downstairs,” she said. “He advises me not to participate in this circus.”
Damian stared at her.
“This is my house.”
“And I am your future wife.”
“Then help me understand why your credential keeps opening restricted rooms.”
“I already told you.”
“Yes. You told me it wasn’t you.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Then who has your card?”
“Nobody.”
Gerard Pike appeared behind her.
“Perhaps your security system has been compromised.”
Luca looked at him.
“How convenient.”
Pike gave him a thin smile.
“I’m offering a technical possibility.”
Damian said nothing.
Pike looked toward me.
Then at Lily.
That glance lasted perhaps one second too long.
Lily moved closer to my chair.
I noticed.
So did Damian.
Pike continued.
“If an intruder wanted to create internal suspicion, cloned credentials would be obvious.”
“What intruder?” Damian asked.
Pike shrugged.
“You have competitors.”
“Name one with access to my house.”
Pike stopped smiling.
At noon, the phone-location report arrived.
Pike’s corporate phone had remained in the dining room throughout his ten-minute absence.
That should have cleared him.
Instead, Luca asked one question.
“Did you leave your phone at the table intentionally?”
Pike laughed.
“You’re accusing me because I went to the bathroom?”
Damian looked at the floor plan.
“The closest bathroom is west.”
Pike’s face changed slightly.
“You walked east.”
“I took a call.”
“Without your phone?”
Silence.
Then Lily tugged my sleeve.
“Mama.”
I bent down.
“What?”
She whispered into my ear.
“I saw him.”
My skin went cold.
“Who?”
She pointed.
Pike.
“Where?”
“Last night.”
Every adult in the room turned.
Pike smiled too quickly.
“Children become confused when adults pressure them.”
“No one is pressuring her,” I said.
Damian crouched so he wasn’t towering over Lily.
“Where did you see Mr. Pike?”
Lily looked at me.
I nodded.
She took a breath.
“By the stairs near the kitchen.”
“What was he doing?”
“Talking to the shiny lady.”
Selene’s face tightened.
“The shiny lady?”
Lily pointed toward Selene’s diamonds.
Nobody laughed.
Damian asked, “What did you see?”
“She gave him something.”
Selene stepped forward.
“That is enough.”
Damian raised one hand.
She stopped.
“What did she give him, Lily?”
Lily frowned, trying to remember.
“A card.”
Pike shook his head.
“This is absurd.”
“Was it like this?”
Luca held up his access badge.
Lily nodded immediately.
“Yes.”
Selene’s voice sharpened.
“She’s seven.”
Damian stood.
“She also knows what she saw.”
“This is insane.”
“Then explain it.”
Selene looked at Pike.
Pike looked at Damian.
For several seconds, no one said anything.
Then Selene laughed.
“I gave Gerard my card because I had spilled wine on my clutch and asked him to put it upstairs.”
“Your access credential was in your clutch?” Luca asked.
“Yes.”
“And you forgot this until now?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
Damian’s eyes became colder.
“You repeatedly told me nobody had your card.”
Selene lifted her chin.
“I forgot.”
Pike interrupted.
“I never entered the archive.”
“Then where did you go?” Damian asked.
“I already told you.”
“No, Gerard. You lied about going to the bathroom. Then you lied about taking a phone call.”
Pike’s friendliness disappeared.
“Be careful, Damian.”
The room changed.
Not because he had threatened Damian exactly.
Because of the way he said his first name.
Like an equal.
Maybe even like someone who believed he had leverage.
Damian stepped closer.
“What am I supposed to be careful of?”
Pike glanced toward Everett Vale, who had entered silently.
Everett adjusted his cuff.
“I think everyone needs to calm down.”
Damian looked from Everett to Selene.
Then to Pike.
And I finally saw it.
They weren’t three separate frightened people.
They were watching one another.
Coordinating.
Luca’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then looked at Damian.
“We found the camera interruption.”
“Meaning?”
“It wasn’t remotely hacked.”
“Then how?”
“Someone physically disconnected the archive camera from the junction panel.”
“Who can access the panel?”
“Security.”
Pike smiled.
“So your own people did it.”
Luca ignored him.
“We opened the utility cabinet.”
“And?”
“There was blood inside.”
Selene went very still.
Luca continued.
“Small amount. Someone cut their hand.”
Everyone instinctively looked at one another’s fingers.
Selene’s hands were perfect.
Pike’s too.
Everett’s were behind his back.
Then Lily whispered:
“His thumb.”
Pike looked down.
Too late.
A thin beige bandage wrapped the side of his right thumb.
He immediately shoved his hand into his pocket.
Damian saw it.
Luca saw it.
So did I.
Pike’s face hardened.
“It’s a paper cut.”
“Show me,” Luca said.
“No.”
Damian took one step forward.
“Gerard.”
Pike backed toward the doorway.
And that was when every light in the estate went out.
Lily screamed.
I grabbed her.
Someone slammed into me in the darkness.
Glass shattered.
A door opened.
Then a man cursed.
Emergency lights flickered on seven seconds later.
Gerard Pike was gone.
Selene was gone too.
And on the table where Damian’s laptop had been sitting, there was nothing except an empty charging cable.
Then Luca’s radio crackled.
A security guard’s frantic voice filled the room.
“Mr. Bellucci, we have a breach at the north gate.”
Damian grabbed the radio.
“Who?”
Static.
Then:
“Black Mercedes. Vale vehicle.”
Damian looked toward the window.
But the guard wasn’t finished.
“Sir, there’s another problem.”
May you like
“What?”
“The original trust folder is gone again.”
