Chapter 2 - The Second Test
At 7:45 the next morning, the Duca estate looked less like a mansion and more like a fortress preparing for war.
Marco had been awake since four.
Every vulnerability in Tessa’s preliminary report had been addressed.
Access permissions had been reset.
Guard rotations changed.
Verification procedures rewritten.
Maintenance credentials canceled.
Security cameras manually inspected.
No deliveries were scheduled.
No contractors were permitted on the property.
Every employee had been informed that an authorized penetration test would begin at eight.
Marco had even removed the pears from the kitchen.
Cal discovered this at 6:30.
“You removed the fruit?”
Marco didn’t look up.
“Correct.”
“Security precaution?”
“Absolutely.”
Cal nodded.
“Of course.”
“Say what you want to say.”
“I value my employment.”
At exactly eight, nothing happened.
8:15.
Nothing.
8:45.
Nothing.
By nine-thirty, Marco was beginning to enjoy himself.
At ten, Cal entered the study.
“No sign of her.”
Marco continued reading.
“She can take her time.”
“At what point do we consider the possibility that she decided not to come?”
“She came.”
Cal frowned.
“You saw her?”
“No.”
“Then—”
“She came.”
Marco was certain.
Tessa Morgan didn’t seem like someone who walked away from a challenge.
At 10:17, Marco’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Duca.”
“Your west garden is beautiful.”
Marco stood.
He crossed to the window.
Nothing.
“Where are you?”
“That would ruin the game.”
“You’re on the property.”
“Maybe.”
Marco signaled Cal.
Within seconds, security teams began checking the west grounds.
Marco remained on the phone.
“You’re distracting me.”
Tessa laughed softly.
“Good.”
“You won’t get inside.”
“Marco?”
“Yes?”
“Check your kitchen.”
The call ended.
Marco ran.
Cal followed.
Two guards arrived from the opposite corridor.
Marco pushed open the kitchen door.
Empty.
He scanned the room.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
Then Cal pointed.
On the marble island sat a pear.
Beside it was a handwritten note.
9:42 a.m. Better. 8/10. — T
Marco stared at it.
Cal made a strange noise.
Marco turned.
“Do not laugh.”
“I wasn’t.”
“She was inside.”
“Yes.”
“Thirty-five minutes ago.”
“Yes.”
“And nobody saw her.”
“That does appear to be the situation.”
Marco grabbed the note.
On the back were three words.
Check the cameras.
They did.
The footage showed nothing.
Then Tessa walked into the security room behind them.
“Your problem isn’t the cameras.”
Every man in the room spun around.
One guard reached toward his jacket.
Marco raised a hand.
Tessa stood in the doorway carrying two coffees.
She handed one to Marco.
He stared at it.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
“How?”
“Later.”
“Tessa.”
“Marco.”
He took the coffee.
Cal noticed.
He wisely said nothing.
For the next hour, Tessa walked them through the second assessment.
Marco had corrected all six vulnerabilities.
She had still entered.
But this time the reason was different.
“You’re protecting the property,” she explained. “You’re not protecting information about the property.”
She placed several documents on the table.
Employee schedules.
A maintenance record.
A photograph of the estate posted online months earlier by a former contractor.
Nothing individually dangerous.
Together, they revealed patterns.
Marco’s expression darkened.
“Someone could build a picture.”
“Exactly.”
“From public information.”
“Some of it.”
Marco caught the qualification.
“Some?”
Tessa became quiet.
She opened her laptop.
“I found something last night.”
A document appeared.
Marco leaned closer.
It was a floor plan.
Not the architectural plans available through old municipal records.
This one was newer.
Much newer.
It included renovations Marco had authorized eighteen months earlier.
Cal stepped closer.
“That shouldn’t exist outside our records.”
“It does,” Tessa said.
“Where did you get it?”
“I’m not going to discuss methodology until I know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
Marco’s voice hardened.
“Where?”
Tessa met his eyes.
“Someone has been collecting information about your house.”
Silence.
Marco’s world had taught him to recognize danger.
Danger rarely announced itself.
It appeared as patterns.
A car parked too long.
A question asked too casually.
A familiar face in an unfamiliar place.
He looked at the floor plan.
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know?”
Tessa turned the laptop.
Several files appeared.
Photographs.
Schedules.
Vehicle information.
Security observations.
Someone had been studying the estate.
Cal swore quietly.
Marco’s face became unreadable.
“Could these files have come from my employees?”
“Possibly.”
“Could someone have stolen them?”
“Possibly.”
“You’re giving me a lot of possibilities.”
“Because pretending certainty would be irresponsible.”
Marco looked at her.
There was no humor now.
No teasing.
This was the woman whose reputation had convinced Cal to hire her.
“Yesterday,” Marco said slowly, “you mentioned a weakness only four people knew about.”
Tessa nodded.
“You knew I’d notice.”
“I hoped.”
“Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
“Because I needed to see your reaction.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You were testing me?”
“I test systems.”
“I’m not a system.”
Tessa held his gaze.
“Everyone is part of one.”
Cal looked between them.
“I’m going to pretend that wasn’t philosophical.”
Neither responded.
Tessa closed the laptop.
“I want to interview your security staff.”
Marco nodded.
“All of them.”
“Yes.”
“You think one of them is involved.”
“I think assuming that would be dangerous.”
“Why?”
“Because the easiest way to miss an outside threat is to become obsessed with finding an inside traitor.”
Marco studied her.
She was right.
He disliked that she was right almost as much as he respected it.
The interviews began after lunch.
Tessa spoke to guards individually.
She asked about routines, mistakes, shift changes, contractors, unusual phone calls, forgotten badges, unexpected visitors.
Marco watched from another room.
She wasn’t aggressive.
That surprised him.
She made people comfortable.
People talked when they were comfortable.
By late afternoon, she had filled twenty-three pages.
At six, Marco found her alone in the kitchen.
Again.
She was staring at the marble island.
“No pear?” he asked.
She turned.
“Someone removed them.”
“Security measure.”
“Obviously.”
For the first time that day, she smiled.
Marco walked closer.
“You found something.”
“How do you know?”
“You’re not joking.”
Her smile disappeared.
“Three employees remember the same thing.”
“What?”
“A delivery.”
Marco waited.
“Six weeks ago. Flowers.”
“Flowers?”
“For a charity event your staff was preparing.”
Marco remembered.
His sister had hosted the event.
Hundreds of arrangements had been delivered.
“The florist had authorization.”
“Yes.”
Tessa placed a photograph on the counter.
“But one van arrived that wasn’t on the original manifest.”
Marco looked down.
Security footage showed a white delivery van entering the estate.
“License plate?”
“Stolen.”
“Driver?”
“Temporary worker. Fake identity.”
Marco’s expression hardened.
“How long was he here?”
“Seventeen minutes.”
“What did he do?”
“We don’t know.”
Marco looked toward the windows.
Someone had entered his home long before Tessa.
Someone who hadn’t been invited to test anything.
Tessa moved closer.
“There’s more.”
She showed him another image.
A man carrying flowers through the service corridor.
His face was partially turned away.
But something was visible on his wrist.
A distinctive tattoo.
Marco froze.
Tessa noticed immediately.
“You know him.”
Marco didn’t answer.
“Marco.”
He enlarged the photograph.
The tattoo became clearer.
A black serpent wrapped around a small cross.
Marco hadn’t seen that symbol in nine years.
He had hoped never to see it again.
Cal entered.
One look at Marco’s face stopped him.
“What happened?”
Marco turned the screen.
Cal went pale.
“No.”
Tessa looked between them.
“Who is he?”
Marco closed the laptop.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he finally answered.
“A man who should be dead.”
Tessa’s expression changed.
Marco stared at the frozen security image.
Nine years earlier, that tattoo had belonged to Adrian Vale—the only man who had ever come close to destroying the Duca family.
And according to every report Marco had received, Adrian Vale had died in a fire.
But if Vale was alive, the break-in wasn’t the frightening part.
May you like
The frightening part was what he might have left behind.
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