Chapter 7
Agatha refused to discuss the kennel.
“That was forty years ago.”
“No.”
I looked at her across my office.
“It happened again yesterday.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You cannot compare an hour of discipline to a childhood memory.”
“Elliot was chained in heat without water.”
“He was watched.”
That stopped me.
“By who?”
She hesitated.
There.
I leaned forward.
“Who was watching him?”
No answer.
My bodyguard, Luca—no, different family name; my security chief Aaron Price—stood near the door.
I looked at him.
“Check cameras.”
Agatha finally spoke.
“The monitor.”
I stared.
The monitor alarm I heard from the terrace.
Not random.
Elliot had been wearing a small estate safety tag because he had wandered toward the pond two weeks earlier. Heat and distance alerts ran to the family security tablet.
Agatha knew that.
So did Julian.
“You expected the alarm.”
She said nothing.
Of course.
They had timed it.
Leave Elliot long enough to be frightened and thirsty.
Wait for the monitor to alert.
Let me arrive while capos were already assembled.
Then Julian provokes me.
Agatha dismisses the punishment.
I react.
A perfect scene.
I felt my hands tighten.
“You calculated how long my son could stay there.”
Agatha’s face hardened.
“He was never in danger.”
“That sentence is supposed to help you?”
“We monitored him.”
I stood.
“Like an experiment.”
She looked away.
There.
Not a grandmother correcting behavior.
A strategist managing exposure.
“How many capos knew?”
“None.”
“Julian?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone else?”
She refused.
I knew there was someone.
A plan this public required at least one person managing the terrace timing.
Someone had positioned the right men close enough to see.
The chain was cruelty.
The audience was conspiracy.
I looked at Aaron.
“Find who changed the guest seating.”
Agatha’s eyes flickered.
Small.
May you like
Enough.
We had another name waiting.
