Chapter 6
Claire remembered the card.
Not where Janice hid it.
What was on it.
“Vincent recorded himself.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“Because he was afraid.”
Of me?
“No.”
Claire shook her head.
“Of whoever was above him.”
The room went still.
Vincent had been my older brother.
Security chief before I took full command.
Confident.
Controlling.
Never visibly afraid.
“Who was above Vincent?”
Claire looked toward Ella.
“Not someone above him in rank.”
Different.
Someone with leverage.
She continued.
Vincent once got drunk in front of her.
Rare.
He told her he had not started the plan to remove Claire.
He inherited it.
“From who?”
“He never said.”
I almost laughed.
Of course.
But he said enough.
The Bellrose elders did not want me marrying outside approved families.
Claire had no money.
No Mafia blood.
No political value.
Then she became pregnant.
Suddenly love became succession risk.
I looked toward Sophie.
Two little girls had become threats to men who built their identity around bloodlines.
“Did my father know?”
Claire hesitated.
“He was already sick.”
My father died three years ago.
One year after Claire disappeared.
So maybe.
Maybe not.
“Who else?”
“Your aunt Lydia.”
My jaw tightened.
Lydia Bellrose.
Seventy.
Senior matriarch.
The woman who held my hand at my father’s funeral.
The woman who told me Claire was proof outsiders always leave.
I felt something cold move through me.
“Did Vincent work for her?”
“Sometimes.”
That sounded right.
Not subordinate.
Influenced.
Lydia had spent decades controlling family marriages without ever calling it control.
Invitations.
Introductions.
Withdrawn approval.
Inheritance pressure.
She never needed orders.
She made belonging conditional.
I asked:
“What did Vincent say on the recording?”
Claire closed her eyes.
“He said he was sorry.”
“For what?”
“For letting them turn you into someone who thought I left.”
My breathing changed.
Then:
“He said Ella was yours.”
I looked at my daughter.
“And Sophie?”
Claire shook her head.
“The recording was before Sophie.”
Right.
Then what was the note about Sophie doing inside the envelope?
Added later.
By Janice?
By Vincent before death?
Someone else.
The conspiracy had continued after Vincent was gone.
I looked toward the door.
“Who knew Sophie existed?”
Claire counted quietly.
“Janice.”
“Anyone else?”
Silence.
Then:
“Lydia.”
I stood.
“How?”
Claire’s face tightened.
“Because Janice took Sophie to her once.”
Everything inside me went still.
“What do you mean took?”
Claire started crying.
“She disappeared with her for six hours.”
I did not move.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“And when she came back?”
“Janice said she needed proof the baby was healthy.”
Proof.
For Lydia.
My aunt had seen my daughter before I had.
May you like
That made the room smaller.
And rage much quieter.
