Chapter 7: The Traitor in the Ballroom
Chapter 7: The Traitor in the Ballroom
The west corridor doors were still moving.
Richard Conway was gone.
For one heartbeat, no one reacted.
Then Alessandro's voice cut through the stunned silence.
"Russo."
The security chief was already moving.
"Seal every corridor."
"Nobody leaves this mansion."
Security officers sprinted through the hallways.
Heavy doors slammed shut.
Electronic locks engaged one after another.
The mansion became a prison for the second time that night.
But this time...
The prisoner they wanted had already escaped.
I couldn't stop staring at the photograph frozen on the ballroom screen.
Daniel.
Vanessa.
Dr. Mercer.
And behind them...
Richard Conway.
Not standing casually.
Watching.
Waiting.
As if he had been supervising the meeting from the very beginning.
Marco enlarged the reflection.
The image became grainy.
But one detail grew sharper.
A gold signet ring.
Not on Daniel.
Not on Mercer.
On Conway.
Russo stopped beside the screen.
"Can you enhance it further?"
Marco typed rapidly.
The software sharpened the reflection again.
A tiny symbol appeared engraved into the ring.
A wolf.
Conway wasn't wearing a family crest.
He was wearing an organization.
Alessandro's eyes narrowed.
"I've seen that symbol before."
"Where?" I asked.
"My father's private journals."
Marco looked up.
"The study."
Within seconds we were running back through the west corridor.
The steel door remained open.
Giovanni Moretti's study looked exactly as we had left it.
Except for one thing.
A filing cabinet drawer stood open.
Empty.
Marco hurried to the archive computer.
"No."
His face drained of color.
"The Original Succession File is gone."
My stomach tightened.
"The ransom demand."
Marco nodded.
"They weren't asking us to bring it."
"They already had someone inside to steal it."
Alessandro looked toward the open cabinet.
"Conway."
Russo searched the room carefully.
"No signs of forced entry."
"He knew exactly where to look."
Marco replayed the security recording from inside the study.
The timeline revealed the truth.
While everyone had been focused on Victor's phone call...
Conway quietly stepped away from us.
Only eighteen seconds.
Long enough to remove one leather folder from the cabinet and slide it beneath his jacket.
He had stolen it while standing three feet away from Alessandro.
No one noticed.
Because Victor wanted us watching him.
"Everything was coordinated," Marco whispered.
"The kidnapping."
"The fake ambulance."
"The phone call."
"It was all a distraction."
Alessandro remained silent.
Then he looked toward the old photograph still resting on Giovanni's desk.
The one showing Giovanni, Victor...
And two little boys.
Matteo.
And Alessandro.
He picked it up.
Turned it over.
His thumb traced the faded handwriting.
One son will inherit the name.
The other will inherit the truth.
For several long seconds...
He said nothing.
Then he quietly asked,
"What if Father wasn't talking about Matteo?"
Nobody answered.
Back in the ballroom...
Panic had evolved into suspicion.
Guests stood in small groups, whispering.
Some stared openly at me.
Others stared at the countdown still flashing across the enormous screen.
01:09:18
Every second brought Emma closer to danger.
I couldn't breathe.
Dr. Reed approached me with a bottle of water.
"You need this."
I shook my head.
"I need my daughter."
"You need both."
He gently placed the bottle in my hand.
"Emma needs you thinking clearly."
His words reminded me of Daniel.
Whenever I panicked...
He always said exactly the same thing.
"Fear makes people predictable."
"Think first."
I forced myself to drink.
Across the ballroom...
Alessandro gathered Russo, Marco, and the remaining security commanders.
"We have less than seventy minutes."
Russo unfolded a digital map.
"Pier Seven has twelve warehouses."
"Two abandoned terminals."
"Underground maintenance tunnels."
"Four separate docks."
Marco added,
"Victor knows we'll expect an ambush."
"So does Conway."
Alessandro nodded.
"Which means they expect us to arrive together."
He looked toward me.
"We won't."
Forty minutes earlier...
I would've refused to let him out of my sight.
Now...
I understood.
"They'll watch you."
He nodded.
"They won't watch you."
Russo immediately objected.
"Absolutely not."
"Emily cannot go alone."
"I won't."
I looked toward the catering staff still gathered near the kitchen entrance.
Dozens of ordinary workers.
Servers.
Florists.
Musicians.
People powerful guests never noticed.
Just as no one noticed me.
An idea slowly formed.
"They're looking for Alessandro Moretti."
"They're looking for armed security."
"They're looking for expensive cars."
Nobody interrupted.
"They won't be looking for..."
I glanced down at my plain black housekeeping shoes.
"...the help."
Alessandro understood immediately.
"No."
His answer came instantly.
"It's too dangerous."
"So is waiting."
"You've never handled people like Victor."
I met his eyes.
"No."
"But I've handled people like Vanessa."
He frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"I've spent three years invisible."
"I know how rich people stop seeing anyone wearing a uniform."
"They speak freely."
"They ignore us."
"They tell secrets in front of us."
I took a deep breath.
"That's how I found the pregnancy belly."
Marco slowly smiled.
"She's right."
Russo didn't.
"She has no tactical training."
"No."
I answered.
"But I have something your men don't."
"What?"
"I'm a mother."
Silence filled the ballroom.
The countdown continued.
00:58:44
Marco suddenly frowned.
"Wait."
Everyone looked toward him.
He replayed Victor's video call.
Not the conversation.
The background.
He froze one frame.
Behind Victor...
A rusted steel beam appeared.
Covered in faded blue paint.
Marco searched quickly through old city records.
Then another image appeared.
Pier Seven.
Warehouse Four.
The exact same support beam.
Russo smiled grimly.
"We found him."
Marco shook his head.
"No."
"Look again."
He enlarged the beam.
Fresh welding marks surrounded it.
"The beam was moved."
Alessandro understood.
"It's staged."
Marco nodded.
"They're making us believe Victor is already waiting."
"So where is he really?"
Nobody knew.
An alarm sounded.
One of the exterior cameras activated automatically.
Marco switched screens.
A black sedan rolled slowly toward the mansion gates.
No headlights.
No license plates.
It stopped outside the main entrance.
One man stepped out.
White gloves.
Gray suit.
Silver hair.
Dr. Julian Mercer.
He raised both hands.
No weapon.
Only a large white envelope.
Russo immediately lifted his radio.
"Sniper positions."
Alessandro shook his head.
"Hold."
Mercer looked exhausted.
His expensive suit was soaked by the rain.
Blood stained one sleeve.
He never approached the gate.
Instead...
He placed the envelope on the wet pavement.
Then stepped backward.
Far backward.
Almost as though afraid to stand near it.
He looked toward the security camera mounted above the gate.
"I know you're watching."
His voice carried through the mansion speakers.
"I don't have much time."
Russo activated the intercom.
"Where's Emma?"
Mercer closed his eyes.
"I don't know."
"Liar."
"I swear."
"Who took her?"
Mercer's breathing became uneven.
"I delivered her."
My heart nearly stopped.
"To whom?"
He slowly shook his head.
"I never saw his face."
Russo laughed coldly.
"You expect us to believe that?"
"I was blindfolded."
Nobody spoke.
Mercer continued.
"They killed Lewis."
Every security officer stiffened.
"They'll kill me too."
Alessandro stepped closer to the monitor.
"You helped kidnap a child."
"I know."
"You forged medical records."
"I know."
"You lied to me."
"I know."
Mercer's shoulders slumped.
"I've done terrible things."
His voice broke.
"But I never hurt children."
He pointed toward the white envelope.
"Everything I know..."
"...is inside."
Then...
A red laser dot appeared on his chest.
My breath caught.
"Down!"
Russo shouted through the speaker.
Mercer looked downward.
He saw the laser.
Too late.
The rifle fired.
The bullet shattered the rainy silence.
Mercer's body jerked backward.
He collapsed onto the pavement beside the envelope.
Screams erupted inside the ballroom.
Russo barked orders.
"Locate the shooter!"
"North ridge!"
"Move!"
Security teams rushed outside.
Marco switched through every exterior camera.
Nothing.
Only rain.
The sniper had already disappeared.
Mercer lay motionless.
Blood spread beneath him across the wet stone driveway.
I turned away.
Then...
Mercer's hand moved.
Barely.
He was alive.
Alessandro didn't hesitate.
"Bring him in."
Two guards sprinted through the rain.
Thirty seconds later...
They carried Mercer into the mansion.
His breathing was shallow.
Blood covered his shirt.
Dr. Reed dropped to his knees immediately.
"The bullet passed through."
"He may survive."
Mercer's eyes fluttered open.
He looked directly at Alessandro.
Then at me.
Finally...
He whispered only three words.
"Check Emma's rabbit."
Before anyone could ask another question...
His heartbeat monitor flattened.
Dr. Reed looked up slowly.
"I'm sorry."
Silence.
Mercer was dead.
I stared toward the ballroom sofa where Emma had slept.
Her stuffed rabbit.
The old brown rabbit Daniel won at a county fair when we had been dating.
Emma carried it everywhere.
Even tonight.
I suddenly remembered something.
When I saw Emma in the concrete room during Victor's video...
She hugged the rabbit unusually tightly.
Almost protectively.
As though someone had told her never to let it go.
I looked at Alessandro.
He already understood.
"The rabbit."
Russo grabbed his radio.
"But Emma has it."
Marco froze.
"No..."
He enlarged the final frame from Victor's video.
Emma held the rabbit.
But something was different.
The rabbit's left ear.
It looked...
Thicker.
As if something had been sewn inside.
Marco whispered,
"Mercer wasn't talking about the toy."
Everyone looked at him.
He zoomed in again.
A tiny black thread ran along the rabbit's ear.
Fresh stitching.
Not factory-made.
Not old.
Hidden inside Emma's favorite toy...
Was something important enough for Mercer to die trying to tell us.
And somewhere beyond the mansion...
May you like
Emma was clutching it against her chest...
Without realizing she was carrying the one secret Victor was desperate to recover.
