Chapter 7 - Dinner at the Ki Mansion
Rosa was not a traitor.
She was furious anyone had considered the possibility.
“That boy has known me twenty-two years.”
She pointed at Octavio with the fury of a woman who had changed his sheets when he was twelve.
“Twenty-two years, and suddenly I am stealing?”
Octavio stood in the archive room beneath the private bank.
“I did not accuse you.”
“You arrived with three security vehicles.”
“Two.”
“That improves nothing.”
Nomi stood behind him, fighting a smile.
Rosa noticed.
“You. Artist girl. Tell him.”
“I’ve been telling him things since last night.”
“Good. Continue.”
Octavio rubbed his forehead.
“Why did you access my father’s vault?”
Rosa’s anger faded.
“Because your father told me to.”
Octavio became still.
“My father has been dead eleven years.”
“Yes.”
Rosa removed an old key from around her neck.
“He told me if anyone ever began asking about Warehouse Four-Seven-North, I was to come here.”
Nomi looked at Octavio.
The code.
Rosa opened a drawer inside the vault.
Empty.
Her face changed.
“No.”
“What was supposed to be there?” Octavio asked.
“A book.”
“What book?”
“Your father’s private ledger.”
Octavio’s expression hardened.
“Financial?”
“Names.”
Rosa looked at him.
“People he paid. People he feared. People he believed were working against him.”
“Vincent?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why hide it?”
“Because your father stopped trusting his own brother before he died.”
Silence.
That evening, Octavio did something Nomi considered either brilliant or insane.
He held dinner.
Normal family dinner.
Same mansion.
Same dining room.
Same long table where Nomi had spent three years becoming invisible.
Vincent attended.
So did cousins, attorneys, executives, Rosa, and several family friends.
Nomi sat three chairs from Octavio.
Exactly where she always sat.
Nobody knew she was now one of the most important people in the room.
It was almost funny.
Vincent smiled at her.
“Nomi.”
She smiled back.
“Mr. Ki.”
“You survived another of Valentina’s parties?”
“Barely.”
“Where is she tonight?”
“Vegas.”
Vincent laughed.
“So the rumors are true.”
Octavio lifted his wine.
“What rumors?”
“Your sister married a musician.”
Octavio’s expression did not change.
“Apparently.”
Vincent smiled.
“How modern.”
Nomi watched his hand.
The cuff.
Silver lion button.
Exactly as she had drawn.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Dinner continued.
Nobody mentioned warehouses.
Nobody mentioned sketches.
Octavio played his role perfectly.
Cold.
Controlled.
Almost bored.
Nomi did something harder.
She watched without obviously watching.
Vincent touched his cuff whenever Octavio mentioned security.
He stopped eating when Daniel entered.
He checked his phone twice beneath the table.
At dessert, he excused himself.
Nomi counted three seconds.
Then she dropped her napkin.
“I need the restroom.”
Octavio did not look at her.
Good.
Nomi followed Vincent at a distance.
He did not go toward the bathroom.
He entered the west corridor.
Then the library.
Nomi waited outside.
A voice inside.
Vincent.
“You said she didn’t understand what she drew.”
Silence.
Someone on the phone.
“She is sitting at the table right now.”
Nomi stopped breathing.
Vincent continued.
“Octavio is distracted.”
Another pause.
“No, I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Floorboard.
Behind Nomi.
She turned.
A man stood at the corridor entrance.
Malcolm Vey.
The accountant from her drawing.
His eyes moved toward the library door.
Then back to Nomi.
“Lost?”
Nomi smiled.
“Bathroom.”
“Other direction.”
“Of course it is.”
She turned away.
Malcolm followed.
Not close.
Still enough.
Nomi walked toward the dining room.
Then the library door opened.
Vincent emerged.
His eyes landed on her.
For half a second, all three stood in the corridor.
Nomi smiled.
“Your house needs signs.”
Vincent smiled back.
“You’ve been coming here three years.”
“And I still get lost.”
“Perhaps because you spend too much time looking at people instead of rooms.”
Nomi’s skin prickled.
He knew.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
Vincent stepped closer.
“You’re talented.”
“Thank you.”
“I saw some of your drawings once.”
Nomi kept her expression neutral.
“When?”
“At Valentina’s apartment.”
Lie.
Valentina never kept her Ki family sketches.
“What did you think?”
“Too detailed.”
His smile remained.
“Details can cause trouble.”
Nomi tilted her head.
“So can missing them.”
Vincent’s smile disappeared.
Then Octavio entered the corridor.
Everything changed.
“Nomi.”
She looked at him.
“There you are.”
His tone was casual.
His eyes were not.
Vincent stepped away.
“Your guest got lost.”
Octavio looked at Nomi.
“I keep finding her.”
A strange warmth moved through her chest despite the danger.
Vincent returned to dinner.
Malcolm followed.
Octavio waited until they were alone.
“What happened?”
“Library.”
He understood.
“Phone call.”
“With?”
“Unknown.”
“What did he say?”
She repeated everything.
Octavio’s jaw tightened.
“He knows I’m involved.”
“Yes.”
“And he thinks you’re distracted.”
His gaze met hers.
“Is he wrong?”
Nomi regretted the question instantly.
Octavio stepped closer.
The dining room noise became distant.
“Nomi.”
She swallowed.
“This would be a really inconvenient time for honesty.”
“Yes.”
“So lie.”
“No.”
Her heartbeat accelerated.
“Are you distracted?”
“Yes.”
The answer was quiet.
Immediate.
“By me?”
“Yes.”
Nomi looked away.
Octavio’s voice softened.
“But he is wrong about what that means.”
She looked back.
“What does it mean?”
“It means I’m more careful.”
“Not weaker?”
“No.”
His gaze dropped briefly toward her mouth.
Then back to her eyes.
“It means I have something I refuse to misunderstand.”
Nomi forgot the corridor.
The family.
The danger.
Then a glass shattered in the dining room.
They separated instantly.
Rosa appeared.
“Octavio.”
Her face was pale.
“What?”
“Vincent is gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“He left through the kitchen.”
Octavio took out his phone.
Daniel called at the same moment.
“Tell me.”
Daniel spoke quickly.
Octavio’s face changed.
“Stop him.”
A pause.
“Where?”
Another.
Octavio lowered the phone.
“He’s heading toward Nomi’s apartment.”
Her blood went cold.
“My drawings?”
“Maybe.”
Nomi thought of her home.
The canvases.
Photographs.
Her mother’s things.
Then she remembered something far worse.
“My original sketchbook.”
Octavio turned.
“What?”
“The one with every Ki dinner.”
“Where is it?”
She looked at him.
“Under my bed.”
Octavio closed his eyes.
Nomi whispered, “You can yell later.”
“I’m considering it.”
“What happens if Vincent gets it?”
Octavio looked toward the mansion doors.
“Then he knows exactly how much you saw.”
They ran.
But across Chicago, Vincent Ki was already entering Nomi’s building.
And beneath her bed, inside a battered black sketchbook, was one drawing Nomi had completely forgotten.
May you like
A drawing that would reveal the betrayal had started long before Octavio’s father died.
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