Chapter 4 - The Traitor Behind the Walls
Roman drove through the storm faster than Josephine had ever seen anyone drive.
She sat beside him gripping the door handle, saying nothing.
There was nothing useful to say.
Someone had photographed Oliver and Finn inside Roman’s own bedroom.
The picture had been taken after Roman left the mansion.
That meant the intruder was either still inside or had direct access to the security system.
Roman called Vincent again.
No answer.
His security chief never ignored his calls.
Not once.
Roman called the estate command center.
A guard answered.
“Mr. DeLuca?”
“Lock down the house.”
“Sir?”
“Now. Nobody enters. Nobody leaves. Go to my bedroom and physically confirm my sons.”
Silence.
“Sir, Vincent ordered us not to approach the west corridor.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“He said there was a secondary threat.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
Roman disconnected.
Josephine watched him.
“You think Vincent took them?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
“You’re certain?”
“No.”
That was worse.
The mansion gates were closed when they arrived.
Roman used an emergency override.
The Audi shot up the drive.
He was out before the engine stopped.
Josephine followed.
The entrance hall was strangely empty.
“Where is everyone?” she whispered.
Roman drew his weapon.
The lights flickered.
Then shut off.
Emergency illumination glowed red along the floor.
Josephine’s breathing changed.
“Someone triggered internal lockdown.”
Roman led the way upstairs.
A bodyguard lay unconscious near the west corridor.
Alive.
Pulse strong.
Sedated.
“Not killed,” Josephine said.
Roman nodded.
Whoever had done this had chosen not to leave bodies.
That meant something.
They reached Roman’s bedroom.
Locked.
Roman entered the emergency code.
Nothing.
“Override is disabled.”
Josephine knelt beside the panel.
“What are you doing?”
“Old habit.”
She removed the cover and exposed the wiring.
Roman watched her.
“You want to add burglary to the list of things you lied about?”
“Later.”
Thirty seconds later the lock released.
Roman pushed inside.
“Oliver?”
No answer.
“Finn!”
The bed was empty.
Roman’s face changed in a way Josephine had never seen.
Not anger.
Something much more frightening.
Despair.
Then a small voice came from the dressing room.
“Dad?”
Roman ran.
Oliver emerged from behind a wardrobe panel.
Finn was behind him.
Roman dropped to his knees.
“How—”
Oliver pointed.
“Jo taught us.”
Josephine blinked.
“Taught you what?”
“The safe corner game.”
Weeks earlier, she had taught the boys how to identify exits, hiding locations, and places that could not be seen directly from doorways.
She had never imagined they would use it.
Finn threw his arms around Roman.
“A man came in.”
Roman’s eyes hardened.
“What man?”
“Uncle Vince.”
Josephine froze.
Roman did too.
“What did he do?”
Oliver answered.
“He told us to hide. Then another man came.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened?”
“They fought.”
Roman looked toward the hall.
“Where did Vincent go?”
Oliver pointed toward the bookshelf.
“He said if you came back, tell you to find the room behind Mom.”
Roman frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Oliver shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Finn suddenly said, “Mom’s picture.”
Roman looked toward the wall.
A large framed portrait of Claire hung above a cabinet.
Roman removed it.
Behind the frame was a fingerprint scanner.
He had never seen it.
Josephine whispered, “Claire built something into the house.”
Roman touched the scanner.
Nothing.
Oliver came closer.
“Maybe Mom.”
Roman stared.
Then he remembered Claire’s old jewelry box stored in his bedroom safe.
Inside was a silicone fingerprint mold Roman had once thought was part of a children’s craft project.
He found it.
Pressed it to the scanner.
A section of the wall clicked.
Josephine stepped back.
A narrow door opened.
Behind it was a hidden room.
Roman had owned the mansion for fourteen years.
He never knew the room existed.
Inside stood shelves of documents.
Hard drives.
Photographs.
And a single monitor.
On the desk was Vincent’s phone.
Blood stained the corner.
Roman picked it up.
A video was paused.
He pressed play.
Claire appeared on screen.
Alive.
Four years younger.
Roman forgot how to breathe.
“If you’re watching this,” Claire said, “then the person I was afraid of finally came back.”
Roman sat down.
Josephine stood behind him.
Claire looked exhausted.
But determined.
“Roman, I’m sorry.”
His eyes burned.
“I wanted to tell you. But by the time I understood what was happening, anyone I trusted became a target.”
She held up a folder.
“The man betraying you is connected to your father.”
Roman frowned.
His father, Antonio DeLuca, had died fifteen years earlier.
Claire continued.
“Years ago, Antonio ordered the death of a man named Samuel Mercer.”
Josephine inhaled.
Mercer.
Daniel Mercer.
Claire looked directly into the camera.
“Samuel Mercer had a son.”
Roman’s blood chilled.
“Daniel.”
Josephine whispered it first.
Claire continued.
“Daniel Mercer spent his adult life building access to the DeLuca organization through outside security networks. He doesn’t want Roman’s money.”
She paused.
“He wants Roman to lose everyone he loves.”
Roman closed his eyes.
Claire’s murder.
The photographs of Oliver.
Tonight’s attack.
Not money.
Revenge.
“But Daniel isn’t the inside traitor,” Claire said.
Roman opened his eyes.
“The person helping him is someone much closer.”
Josephine leaned toward the screen.
Claire turned slightly.
“The name is recorded in locker 214 at Union Station. I separated the evidence because I was afraid Daniel would find it.”
Roman looked at the brass key in his pocket.
Claire continued.
“Josephine has the second access code. She doesn’t know she has it.”
Josephine touched her missing necklace.
“The pendant.”
Claire nodded on the video as though answering her.
“When the brass key and pendant are used together, the locker opens.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
Mercer had the pendant.
They still had the key.
Neither could access the evidence alone.
Then the video changed.
Claire’s face softened.
“And Roman…”
He stared.
“If you still blame yourself, stop.”
His breath broke.
“I chose to investigate this. I chose the risk. I chose you. Every day.”
Roman looked down.
Josephine quietly moved away.
Claire smiled sadly.
“Raise our boys to be kind. Not feared. Kind.”
The video ended.
For several seconds, Roman did not move.
Then a noise came from beneath the desk.
Josephine crouched.
“Roman.”
Blood.
A trail.
It led behind the shelving.
They moved it.
Vincent lay collapsed in a narrow passage.
Alive.
Barely.
Roman dropped beside him.
“Vincent.”
His eyes opened.
“Boys?”
“Safe.”
Vincent exhaled.
“He came through the service tunnel.”
“Mercer?”
Vincent shook his head weakly.
“No.”
Roman frowned.
“Then who?”
Vincent tried to sit.
Pain stopped him.
“He took the pendant.”
“Who?”
Vincent looked at Roman with something close to shame.
“I should’ve seen it years ago.”
“Seen what?”
“The traitor.”
Roman’s voice hardened.
“Say the name.”
Vincent opened his mouth.
A gunshot exploded from the doorway.
Roman threw himself toward Josephine.
The bullet struck the desk.
A man stepped into the hidden room.
Expensive suit.
Wet hair.
Gun raised.
Roman recognized him immediately.
So did Oliver, who stood frozen in the bedroom beyond.
Because the man aiming the weapon was someone the boys had known their entire lives.
Roman’s younger brother.
Adrian DeLuca.
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And around Adrian’s neck hung Josephine’s missing pendant.
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