Chapter 6 - The Camera That Went Dark
Julian Romano was waiting in the library when we returned.
He looked nothing like a man involved in an attempted murder.
He wore a cream sweater, dark trousers and the expression of someone inconvenienced by bad weather.
Alexander sat across from him.
The brothers resembled each other enough that nobody could mistake their relationship.
Same dark hair.
Same sharp cheekbones.
But where Alexander’s stillness made a room feel smaller, Julian’s charm made people forget to watch their backs.
I entered with Vincent.
Julian smiled.
“There she is.”
I hated the way he said it.
Alexander noticed.
His eyes hardened.
“Talk.”
Julian spread his hands.
“I already told you. I didn’t poison you.”
“You discussed my death with Keller.”
“No. I discussed what I had been instructed to say while someone listened.”
Vincent placed a phone on the table.
“Keller’s recording says you were involved.”
“Involved, yes. Willingly, no.”
Alexander leaned forward.
“Explain.”
Julian’s smile disappeared.
“Three weeks ago I received photographs.”
“Of?”
“A woman.”
“Which woman?”
Julian looked away.
Alexander’s voice sharpened.
“Julian.”
“Emily.”
Eleanor inhaled.
I didn’t know the name.
Alexander did.
“Your daughter.”
I stared at Julian.
He had a daughter?
“Nobody knows,” he said. “That was intentional.”
Emily Romano was five years old and lived in London with her mother.
Someone had photographed her leaving school.
Sleeping in her bedroom.
Playing in a park.
Then Julian received instructions.
Return to New York.
Cooperate.
Say specific things to Keller.
Make it appear he wanted Alexander dead.
“If I went to the police, they threatened her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alexander asked.
Julian laughed once, bitterly.
“You were already sick. Your phone was monitored. Your security was compromised. Who exactly was I supposed to trust?”
His eyes moved toward Vincent.
Vincent didn’t react.
“What were you ordered to do?” Alexander asked.
“Nothing directly harmful. Be visible. Argue with you publicly. Speak to Keller on camera. Make sure everyone suspected me.”
“A distraction,” I said.
Julian nodded.
“Exactly.”
Alexander studied his brother.
“Where is Emily?”
“Safe now. I moved her yesterday.”
“How?”
“A friend helped.”
“Name.”
“No.”
Alexander’s expression changed.
“You expect me to believe—”
“I expect you to understand that every time I tell someone a name, that person becomes a target.”
That silenced Alexander.
Julian reached into his pocket.
Vincent’s hand moved instinctively toward his jacket.
Julian rolled his eyes.
“Relax.”
He placed a USB drive on the table.
“This arrived yesterday.”
Vincent connected it to an isolated laptop.
A video appeared.
Black screen.
Then a distorted voice.
“Alexander Romano has seventy-two hours.”
The screen displayed an image of the estate.
“He will sign control of Romano Holdings to Julian Romano.”
Julian cursed quietly.
“After transfer, Alexander will be allowed to die peacefully.”
The word peacefully made my stomach turn.
The voice continued.
“Claire Bennett will deliver the original records taken by Margaret Bennett.”
My heart stopped.
So they knew my mother had evidence.
They knew about me.
They had known before I ever started working here.
“Failure to comply will result in consequences to everyone inside the house.”
The video ended.
Alexander looked at Julian.
“When did you receive it?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“Why hide it?”
“Because I thought you were dying.”
Alexander stood abruptly.
His knees nearly gave way.
I reached for him.
He steadied himself against the table.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
His eyes met mine.
For the briefest second, some private understanding passed between us.
Then Vincent said, “There’s something else.”
He had examined the video metadata.
It had been created using footage from an internal estate security camera.
A camera inside Alexander’s private office.
“That system isn’t connected to external servers,” Vincent said.
“Meaning?” Eleanor asked.
“Whoever made this video physically accessed the estate network.”
“When?”
“Two nights ago.”
“That’s when Alexander was unconscious,” I said.
Vincent nodded.
He pulled the camera logs.
Every security camera recorded continuously.
Except one.
At 1:17 a.m., the camera covering the east corridor went black.
It returned six minutes later.
During those six minutes, someone could have walked from the service stairwell directly into Alexander’s private office.
“Can you restore it?” Alexander asked.
“Maybe.”
Vincent worked for almost an hour.
Finally corrupted frames appeared.
Static.
Darkness.
A shadow.
Then one clear image.
A woman walking down the corridor.
Eleanor gasped.
I leaned closer.
The woman appeared to be in her late fifties or early sixties.
Silver-blonde hair.
Elegant black coat.
I had never seen her.
Alexander had.
His face went completely still.
“No.”
Julian stood.
“What?”
Alexander stared at the screen.
“That woman is dead.”
Nobody spoke.
“Who is she?” I asked.
Alexander looked as if he were seeing a ghost.
“Elena Romano.”
The name from the photograph.
The woman holding the newborn.
Julian looked confused.
“We don’t have an Elena Romano.”
Alexander turned toward him.
“Yes, we do.”
“How?”
“Apparently Father had a sister.”
Eleanor corrected him quietly.
“Not a sister.”
We looked at her.
She closed her eyes.
“I promised Vittorio I would never tell either of you.”
Alexander’s voice became dangerously soft.
“Tell us what?”
Eleanor looked at the security image.
“Elena was your mother’s younger sister.”
Julian stared.
“Our aunt?”
Eleanor shook her head.
“More than that.”
She took a breath.
“Elena had a son.”
The room became silent.
“A son Vittorio raised in secret for several years.”
Alexander understood first.
“You’re saying he was my cousin.”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“Nobody knows.”
“What was his name?”
Eleanor hesitated.
“Gabriel.”
Vincent suddenly looked ill.
“Gabriel Vale?”
Eleanor turned.
“You know him?”
Vincent’s voice became almost inaudible.
“Sebastian’s son.”
Everything snapped together.
Sebastian Vale had raised Vincent.
Sebastian had also raised another boy.
A boy with Romano blood.
A boy hidden from Alexander.
A boy who might believe the empire should have been his.
Alexander stared at the frozen image.
“Gabriel Vale died fifteen years ago.”
Eleanor whispered, “No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because your father paid him to disappear.”
Then a voice came from behind us.
“I didn’t need the money.”
We all turned.
The library doors were open.
A man stood there.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Mid-thirties.
His face bore an unsettling resemblance to Alexander.
He smiled.
May you like
“But I took it anyway.”
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