Chapter 5
Victor refused to name the second faction.
Not from loyalty.
From survival.
“If I say it here, you put everyone in this house at risk.”
I almost laughed.
“You let my wife vanish for two years.”
“I kept her alive.”
Isabella’s voice sharpened.
“You kept me isolated.”
Victor looked toward the phone.
“Because if they knew you survived the fire, they would finish it.”
I watched him.
That sounded plausible.
Dangerous, but plausible.
“Then why tell me she was dead?”
“Because grief made you predictable.”
Silence.
There it was.
Not protection.
Control.
I nodded.
“You needed me predictable.”
Victor’s face hardened.
“You were shot. Isabella vanished. You had a three-year-old daughter. The organization was fracturing.”
“So you made yourself necessary.”
“Yes.”
He admitted it.
That surprised everyone except Isabella.
Victor continued.
“I stabilized the house.”
“You lied to me.”
“I kept you alive.”
“You let Lucy grieve her mother.”
His eyes flickered.
That landed.
Good.
I asked Isabella about the urn.
“How did the phone get inside?”
She almost laughed.
“Emma.”
I frowned.
The maid?
Emma had been dusting the memorial table when the phone rang.
“She knows?”
“Only part.”
I called her back downstairs after making sure Lucy stayed upstairs.
Emma entered pale and shaking.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
I looked at the urn.
“You put the phone inside?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
Victor stared.
“How?”
Emma looked at him.
“You don’t watch staff who look afraid of you.”
That sentence changed the room.
Victor had spent years mapping capos, guards, enemies.
May you like
He had ignored a housemaid.
Just like men like him always do.
