Chapter 8
Grant laughed when Sofia told him.
Not because it was funny.
Because cruelty was the only weapon he still had.
They sat in the library again.
The compartment behind the painting remained open.
Sofia had refused to close it.
She wanted every person who entered the room to see it.
“You really believe a three-year-old?”
Grant smiled.
“That's adorable.”
Sofia said nothing.
Grant leaned back.
“Elsie thinks the moon follows the car.”
“She thinks rabbits understand English.”
“She called a mannequin Grandma once.”
He laughed.
“And now she's solving an eighteen-year-old kidnapping?”
Sofia waited.
He hated that.
“Say something.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you're talking enough.”
His face hardened.
Then Sofia said:
“Victor mentioned a boy.”
Grant stopped.
There.
Tiny reaction.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
Sofia leaned forward.
“You know.”
“No.”
“You know about Nicholas.”
Grant scoffed.
“Your dead brother?”
“Missing.”
“Same difference after eighteen years.”
Sofia’s eyes hardened.
Grant smiled.
“There.”
“What?”
“That face.”
He looked toward the open compartment.
“That's why Elsie needed that room.”
Sofia went still.
Grant continued.
“She makes that face too.”
“Like she thinks somebody will save her.”
His voice turned cruel.
“Children need to learn eventually.”
“No one is coming.”
“Mommy is busy.”
“Grandma is dead.”
“Uncle Nicholas is a bedtime story.”
One bodyguard shifted angrily.
Grant smiled at him.
“What? Truth hurts?”
Sofia looked at Grant.
“You told Elsie Nicholas existed.”
His smile disappeared.
Another mistake.
Sofia stood.
“She didn't know.”
Silence.
“I never told her.”
Tilda had never heard the name until tonight.
Grant had just revealed he had spoken about Nicholas around Elsie.
“You knew Victor had him.”
Grant stood.
“No.”
Sofia stepped closer.
“You knew there was a man who looked like me.”
“No.”
“You talked about him.”
Grant's jaw tightened.
“He's nobody.”
There.
Not denial.
Sofia almost smiled.
“Where?”
Grant looked away.
Sofia moved closer.
“Where is my brother?”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“You really think finding him changes anything?”
The room went silent.
Sofia's voice lowered.
“So he's alive.”
Grant realized it.
Too late.
He closed his eyes.
Sofia whispered:
“Thank you.”
Grant exploded.
“Fine!”
He pointed toward her.
“Yes.”
“I saw him.”
Sofia did not move.
“When?”
“Twice.”
“Where?”
“Victor moved him.”
“From?”
“A private house.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Lie.”
“I don't.”
“Grant.”
He smiled cruelly.
“You know what he calls himself?”
Sofia waited.
“Daniel.”
Her face changed.
Grant enjoyed it.
“Victor gave your brother another name.”
“Another life.”
“He doesn't know you.”
Sofia's hands tightened.
“He thinks his family abandoned him.”
Grant leaned closer.
“Imagine that.”
“Eighteen years waiting for people who never came.”
Sofia stared.
Grant smiled wider.
“Sound familiar?”
He looked toward the hidden compartment.
“Elsie learned faster.”
That nearly broke her composure.
Nearly.
Grant continued.
“She stopped calling for you after three days.”
Bodyguards moved.
Sofia raised one hand.
Not yet.
She wanted every word.
“What did Victor tell Nicholas?”
“That your father sold him.”
“Lie.”
“Of course.”
Grant shrugged.
“But a lie repeated eighteen years becomes childhood.”
Sofia’s voice was quiet.
“Why keep him alive?”
Grant smiled.
“Victor likes investments.”
“What was Nicholas for?”
“Your father.”
“And after Dad died?”
Grant's smile faded slightly.
“You.”
Of course.
A hidden heir.
A blood relative.
A man who could be produced at the right moment and told Sofia stole his life.
Victor wasn't simply planning to control Sofia with children.
He had spent eighteen years preparing her brother as another weapon.
“What did Victor want Nicholas to do?”
Grant looked toward the family photographs.
“Take the Keats name back.”
Sofia almost laughed.
“He has it.”
“Not publicly.”
“There it is.”
Grant leaned forward.
“You think your capos won't care?”
“A lost son.”
“Stolen as a child.”
“Raised outside.”
“Returning to find his sister took everything.”
Sofia understood.
Narrative.
Victor loved leverage, but he also loved stories.
Stories make betrayal look righteous.
Grant continued.
“He won't need to beat you.”
“He'll just need your men to doubt.”
Sofia smiled faintly.
Grant stopped.
“What?”
“You finally told me Victor's real plan.”
His face changed.
Sofia continued.
“He doesn't trust you.”
“He never did.”
“You were only meant to make me look unstable.”
Grant stared.
“The pregnant boss who can't control her own home.”
“The mother whose daughter hides in walls.”
“The wife who attacks her husband.”
His eyes widened.
Sofia nodded.
“Every bruise you gave Elsie without leaving a mark.”
“Every night you made her scream.”
“Every time you told her I abandoned her.”
She pointed toward the overturned book cart.
“And my punch.”
Grant understood.
Victor wanted Grant hurt.
Publicly.
Evidence Sofia was losing control.
Grant whispered:
“No.”
“Yes.”
Sofia looked toward the security camera in the corner.
Grant followed her eyes.
The indicator light was on.
His face drained.
“Victor has been recording this room.”
Sofia smiled.
“He wanted me to hit you.”
Grant stared.
Then toward the hidden compartment.
Toward the camera.
Toward Sofia.
Everything collapsed inside his expression.
May you like
For the first time, he realized even his cruelty had been planned for someone else's benefit.
Then every alarm in the house began ringing at once.
