Chapter 3 - The Enemy Inside the Mansion
I stared at the photograph until the words blurred.
STOP MAKING HIM STRONG OR ELSE.
Oliver was standing behind me.
“Mom?”
I turned so quickly I nearly knocked him over.
“Go to the kitchen.”
“What happened?”
“Oliver.”
He saw my face and stopped asking.
That frightened me more.
My son had become too good at recognizing fear.
I locked the bedroom door and called Gabriel.
He answered immediately.
“Clare?”
“Someone was in my apartment.”
Silence.
Then his voice changed.
“Where's Oliver?”
“With me.”
“Leave everything. Take him downstairs.”
“Gabriel—”
“Now.”
Within nine minutes, two black SUVs appeared outside.
Gabriel entered the apartment with three men.
He examined the photograph without touching it.
His face became stone.
“Who knew about the standing session?” I asked.
“Too many people.”
“You have a leak.”
“Yes.”
The fact that he didn't deny it made my stomach twist.
Oliver sat at the kitchen table clutching his teddy bear.
Sebastian arrived fifteen minutes later.
I had never seen him outside the mansion.
He rolled through my tiny apartment like an invading king, wearing a dark coat and fury.
His eyes found Oliver first.
Then me.
“You're coming with me.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lowered.
“This isn't a discussion.”
“It is when you're talking about my child.”
“Someone entered your home.”
“Because of you.”
The room went silent.
Gabriel looked away.
Sebastian's expression became unreadable.
“Yes.”
His answer surprised me.
No excuse.
No denial.
“Yes. Because of me.”
He moved closer.
“And that's why you're not staying here.”
I folded my arms.
“Your house has the person who leaked the photograph.”
“And my house has forty armed men.”
“Comforting.”
“Clare.”
“No.”
He lowered his voice.
“They threatened Oliver.”
That ended the argument.
We packed one suitcase each.
By midnight, Oliver and I were living in a guest wing of Sebastian Lombardi's mansion.
I hated everything about it.
The guards.
The locked doors.
The cameras.
The way every hallway reminded me that my life was no longer mine.
Oliver thought it was an adventure.
Sebastian gave him a room overlooking the lake.
Someone filled a shelf with books, building kits, and model cars.
I assumed staff had done it.
Then I saw Sebastian personally adjusting the height of Oliver's desk.
“You did this?”
He looked irritated at being caught.
“The old desk was too tall.”
“You bought all these things?”
“No.”
“Sebastian.”
He sighed.
“I ordered them.”
Oliver ran into the room.
“Mr. Lombardi! Look!”
He held up a model Lamborghini.
Sebastian's mouth twitched.
“You like it?”
“It's awesome.”
“Good.”
Oliver hugged him.
Again, Sebastian froze.
Again, that lonely expression crossed his face.
Then Oliver ran away.
I leaned against the doorway.
“You're terrible with affection.”
“I'm excellent with affection.”
“You react like you've been stabbed.”
“Sometimes stabbing is simpler.”
I laughed before I could stop myself.
Sebastian stared.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?”
“I don't think I've heard you laugh.”
“You aren't funny.”
“You just laughed.”
“I had a neurological event.”
“Should I call Dr. Han?”
He smiled.
A real smile.
And something dangerous happened inside me.
Not fear.
Something worse.
Attraction.
I buried it immediately.
This was Sebastian Lombardi.
He was my patient.
My employer.
A man surrounded by violence and secrets.
I was not going to become emotionally involved.
That lasted approximately twelve hours.
The next morning, we trained.
Sebastian managed eight seconds of partial standing.
Then twelve.
Then seventeen.
Progress came with vicious muscle spasms.
After one session, he collapsed back into his wheelchair sweating and shaking.
“I hate you,” he said.
“You said that yesterday.”
“I mean it more today.”
“Excellent.”
I knelt and checked his knee.
His hand rested on my shoulder.
At first, I assumed it was balance.
Then I realized he wasn't moving it.
Neither was I.
We looked at each other.
Too long.
His fingers shifted slightly against my skin.
My breath changed.
He noticed.
I stood immediately.
“Session's over.”
His expression darkened.
“Why?”
“Because you're fatigued.”
“I've been fatigued for twenty years.”
“Then you're experienced.”
I walked away.
Behind me, he said quietly, “Coward.”
I turned.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I am not afraid of you.”
“I didn't say you were afraid of me.”
That was worse.
I left.
The investigation into the photograph continued.
Gabriel discovered that the security image of Sebastian standing had been copied from an internal camera.
Only six people had access.
One was Sebastian.
One was Gabriel.
One was the security chief.
Another was Sebastian's cousin, Dominic Lombardi.
I met Dominic at dinner two nights later.
He was forty-five, handsome in a polished, expensive way, with perfect suits and eyes that never smiled.
“Clare Bennett,” he said while kissing my hand. “The woman attempting the impossible.”
“Just therapy.”
“Nothing involving my cousin is ever just anything.”
Sebastian watched him.
Dominic noticed Oliver.
“And who's this?”
“My son.”
Dominic smiled.
“Family in the mansion. How unusual.”
Sebastian's voice went cold.
“She's under protection.”
“Of course.”
Dominic looked at me.
“You must be very talented.”
Something about his tone made my skin crawl.
Later, I asked Gabriel about him.
“Sebastian's father's brother had two sons. Dominic and Marco. Marco died years ago.”
“What does Dominic do?”
“Manages legitimate businesses.”
“And illegitimate ones?”
Gabriel looked at me.
“Don't ask questions you don't want answered.”
“Does he benefit from Sebastian being disabled?”
Gabriel didn't respond.
That was enough.
The following week, Dr. Han performed new tests.
Sebastian's motor signals were improving.
Slowly.
But unmistakably.
She showed us the results.
“If this continues,” she said carefully, “supported walking may become possible.”
Sebastian stared.
“May.”
“Yes.”
He almost smiled.
Dr. Han pointed at him.
“Don't become arrogant. You are years away from anything resembling normal mobility, if you ever reach it.”
“You really know how to celebrate.”
“That's why Clare likes me.”
After she left, Sebastian remained quiet.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“That I want to stand at my mother's grave.”
“You will.”
He looked at me.
“That sounded dangerously like a promise.”
“It was.”
His expression softened.
Then the doors opened.
Dominic entered.
He had heard enough.
I saw it immediately.
A flicker in his eyes.
Fear.
Not surprise.
Fear.
“Good news?” he asked.
Sebastian smiled.
“The best.”
Dominic recovered quickly.
“I'm glad.”
But I knew.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
At midnight I walked toward the kitchen.
Voices came from Sebastian's office.
Dominic.
And another man.
I stopped.
“...if he walks, everything changes.”
My blood turned cold.
The second voice said, “It shouldn't be possible.”
Dominic hissed, “I don't care what's possible. I care what's happening.”
“You told me the original doctors guaranteed—”
“Twenty years ago.”
My hand flew to my mouth.
Original doctors?
I moved closer.
Dominic continued.
“My uncle's will is explicit. If Sebastian is medically capable of returning to full physical command, several trusts revert directly to him.”
“And if he doesn't?”
“I remain administrator.”
Money.
Power.
Control.
The second man asked, “What about the therapist?”
A pause.
“She's becoming a problem.”
My heart stopped.
“And the boy?”
Dominic answered.
“If necessary, leverage.”
I stepped backward.
The floor creaked.
The voices stopped.
I ran.
I reached the staircase.
Someone grabbed my arm.
I almost screamed.
Sebastian.
“What happened?”
I couldn't speak.
“Clare.”
I grabbed his shoulder.
“Dominic.”
His face changed.
“What about him?”
“He knows.”
“Knows what?”
“He knows you're improving.”
“So does everyone.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“He's afraid of it.”
I told him what I'd heard.
Sebastian didn't interrupt.
By the time I finished, his expression had become terrifyingly calm.
“Gabriel.”
Gabriel appeared as if summoned from the walls.
“Lock down the house.”
“What happened?”
“Dominic leaves nowhere.”
But Dominic was already gone.
The security room showed an exterior gate opening seven minutes earlier.
Authorized from inside.
Someone had helped him.
Sebastian watched the footage.
His hands gripped his wheelchair.
“Twenty years,” he whispered.
I knelt beside him.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“My first surgeon was recommended by Dominic's father.”
A sick feeling moved through me.
“You think—”
“I don't know what I think.”
Then every light in the mansion went out.
Oliver screamed from upstairs.
“Mom!”
I ran.
Gunfire erupted somewhere below.
Sebastian shouted my name.
Gabriel drew his weapon.
Emergency lights flashed red.
I reached Oliver's room.
The door was open.
The window was broken.
May you like
His teddy bear lay on the floor.
But Oliver was gone.
