Chapter 6
Victor Dane was not at the riding lodge.
But he had been.
Recently.
Cigar smoke.
Warm fireplace ash.
Two glasses on the table.
Fresh tire marks behind the stable.
And a wall covered with photographs.
Sofia.
Elsie.
The suburban house.
The Keats estate.
Tilda.
Grant.
Even Sofia’s unborn child represented by ultrasound images Grant had copied from the clinic.
That part made Sofia stop.
Not because it was surprising.
Because it proved planning had moved beyond her.
Victor wasn't preparing to control Sofia.
He was planning the family after Sofia.
One photograph showed Elsie walking with Tilda.
Another showed Sofia leaving for the airport.
Another showed Grant opening the library panel.
One bodyguard pulled down a map.
“Boss.”
Sofia looked.
Three arrows.
House.
Estate.
Hospital.
Hospital.
Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach.
Victor knew where she planned to deliver.
Grant had known too.
Of course.
Her bodyguard pointed.
“Dates.”
Sofia read them.
One week after her expected delivery.
Then another note.
TRANSFER WINDOW.
Her face went cold.
Not kill.
Transfer.
She picked up the radio.
“Bring Grant here.”
Twenty minutes later, he entered under guard.
He saw the wall.
His confidence disappeared.
Interesting.
“You didn't know.”
Grant said nothing.
Sofia pointed toward the hospital map.
“You didn't know.”
Grant looked toward the photographs.
Victor had mapped Grant too.
His gym.
His office.
His regular restaurant.
A second expendable piece.
Grant's face hardened.
“He tracks everyone.”
“Partners?”
No answer.
“Or liabilities?”
Grant glared.
Sofia walked closer.
“What is transfer window?”
“I don't know.”
“Lie.”
“I don't.”
His fear looked real now.
Good.
That meant this secret belonged to Victor.
Sofia looked at the ultrasound.
“What happens after I give birth?”
Grant said nothing.
Sofia slapped the photograph against his chest.
“What?”
He grabbed it.
“I said I don't know.”
She believed him.
That was worse.
Then one of the bodyguards found a recorder.
Victor's voice filled the room.
Older.
Calm.
Cold.
“Grant remains useful until Sofia's delivery.”
Grant stopped breathing.
Nobody moved.
Victor continued.
“Afterward, remove him.”
Grant's face emptied.
Sofia looked at him.
The recorder continued.
“Elsie remains valuable.”
Sofia’s jaw tightened.
“The newborn more so.”
Grant whispered:
“No.”
Victor's voice remained calm.
“Sofia's authority depends on maternal attachment more than she realizes.”
Sofia stared at the device.
“If both children are controlled, every capo she commands becomes predictable.”
Grant looked sick.
He finally understood.
Victor had never planned to replace Sofia with Grant.
He planned to control Sofia through her children.
Grant was only the man who opened the doors.
The recording continued.
“If Sofia resists transfer, use the older child first.”
Sofia closed her eyes.
For one second.
Only one.
Then opened them.
Grant stepped toward the recorder.
“No.”
A bodyguard shoved him back.
He looked at Sofia.
“He lied to me.”
She stared.
Grant laughed desperately.
“He lied.”
“You're surprised?”
“He said Elsie would stay with me.”
Sofia's expression changed.
Not sympathy.
Disgust.
“With you?”
“She’s my daughter.”
“You locked her in a compartment.”
“She needed—”
He stopped.
For the first time, even he heard how pathetic the word sounded.
Sofia stepped closer.
“Discipline?”
Grant looked away.
“You took her food.”
Silence.
“Her toys.”
Nothing.
“Her light.”
His jaw tightened.
“You told her I abandoned her.”
He snapped:
“She wouldn't shut up!”
The room went still.
Grant’s anger took over.
“She cried for you every night.”
“She asked when Mommy was coming home.”
“She kicked the panel.”
“She screamed until my head hurt.”
He looked at Sofia.
“So yes.”
“I told her you didn't want her.”
“I told her good children don't make their parents leave.”
“I told her every time she screamed, you stayed away one more day.”
Sofia did not move.
One bodyguard looked down.
Even hardened men had limits.
Grant continued because rage had stripped away caution.
“And it worked.”
“She stopped.”
His voice became almost triumphant.
“She finally stopped calling for you.”
Sofia looked at him for a long time.
Then said:
“That is the only thing you've ever accomplished as a father.”
Grant's face fell.
“You taught your daughter to give up hope.”
Silence.
“And now you think Victor betraying you makes you one of his victims.”
Grant stared.
Sofia shook her head.
“No.”
“You volunteered.”
Then a phone rang on Victor's desk.
Nobody moved.
One ring.
Two.
Sofia answered.
“Hello.”
Victor Dane's voice came through.
“Sofia.”
Grant went pale.
Sofia's expression remained calm.
“Victor.”
A soft laugh.
“You found the lodge faster than expected.”
“You underestimated Elsie.”
“No.”
Victor paused.
“I underestimated Tilda.”
Tilda.
Sofia's eyes narrowed.
Victor continued.
“Ask your housekeeper why her father disappeared eighteen years ago.”
Sofia said nothing.
“Ask her why Caleb Avery was willing to betray your mother.”
Tilda's past again.
Victor laughed softly.
“And then ask yourself why I made sure Tilda was hired in your home nine years ago.”
The line went dead.
Sofia looked at Grant.
He looked confused.
Good.
This was not his secret either.
May you like
Someone had placed Tilda in Sofia's household years before Grant ever arrived.
And Victor had just claimed responsibility.
