Chapter 2 - THE WEST WING
Marcus never reached the door.
Two bodyguards blocked it before Alexander gave an order.
His brother stopped.
Then smiled as if nothing unusual had happened.
“Tell them to move.”
Alexander kept Sophia in his arms.
“No.”
Marcus looked toward Victoria.
She said nothing.
That frightened him more.
Alexander turned to his oldest bodyguard.
“Daniel.”
Daniel Cross stepped forward.
“Take my brother to the library.”
Marcus laughed.
“You’re detaining me because a three-year-old said my name?”
Alexander looked at him.
“I’m separating you from my daughter because she shook when she saw you.”
Marcus stopped smiling.
Victoria immediately intervened.
“Sophia has been traumatized since Rebecca died.”
Alexander turned toward her.
“And you helped by telling her I was dead?”
Victoria had no answer.
Daniel escorted Marcus away.
Alexander carried Sophia toward the west wing.
Victoria tried to follow.
He stopped her with one look.
“Not you.”
Elizabeth Hale, Sophia’s former nanny, stepped out from among the kitchen staff.
Alexander recognized her immediately.
He had wondered why she was not with his daughter.
Victoria had told him Elizabeth quit shortly after his ambush.
Elizabeth looked terrified.
But she stepped forward anyway.
“Mr. Sterling.”
Alexander stared.
“You quit?”
“No.”
Victoria’s face changed.
Elizabeth continued.
“She dismissed me.”
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
“Why?”
Elizabeth looked toward Sophia.
“Because Sophia kept asking me to take her to her mother’s room.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened.
He carried his daughter upstairs.
Elizabeth followed.
The west corridor had once contained Rebecca’s sitting room, Sophia’s nursery, and Alexander’s private family rooms.
Now every door was locked.
Alexander stopped.
“Why?”
Elizabeth whispered:
“Mrs. Sterling closed the entire wing.”
Daniel brought keys.
They opened Sophia’s nursery first.
Alexander expected neglect.
Instead he found something stranger.
The room was perfect.
Fresh clothes filled the wardrobe.
New toys remained boxed.
Children’s books lined the shelves.
The bed had clean sheets.
Everything Alexander’s monthly money could have bought was there.
Untouched.
He stared.
Elizabeth understood what he was thinking.
“It wasn’t stolen.”
Alexander looked at her.
“She bought everything.”
“Yes.”
“Then why was Sophia dressed like that?”
Elizabeth’s eyes filled.
“Punishment.”
Sophia heard the word.
She buried her face again.
Alexander’s expression became colder.
“For what?”
Elizabeth looked toward Rebecca’s old room.
“For remembering.”
They opened Rebecca’s door.
Dust covered most of the furniture.
Her perfume still lingered faintly inside the dressing room.
Sophia immediately pointed toward a chair near the balcony doors.
“Mommy.”
Alexander walked closer.
“What happened here?”
Sophia touched the side of her own face.
“Mommy cry.”
Then she pointed toward the terrace.
“Uncle Marcus loud.”
Alexander looked at Elizabeth.
“Was she here that night?”
Elizabeth shook her head.
“Victoria told everyone Sophia had already been put to bed.”
Sophia suddenly climbed down from Alexander’s arms.
She walked toward Rebecca’s dressing table.
Then crawled underneath.
Alexander followed.
Sophia reached behind a loose wooden panel.
She removed a small silver music box.
Alexander recognized it.
Rebecca had owned it since childhood.
Sophia handed it to him.
“Mommy said Daddy.”
Alexander opened the lid.
No music played.
Inside was a small voice recorder.
Rebecca’s voice came through when he pressed the button.
“Alexander, if you’re hearing this, then I was right to be afraid.”
Alexander stopped breathing.
Rebecca continued.
“Marcus knows I discovered who arranged the first attack on you.”
The recording clicked.
Then came the final sentence.
“It wasn’t him.”
Alexander slowly looked toward the door.
If Marcus had not arranged the attack, Rebecca had been afraid of someone else.
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And only one person in the house had controlled everything after Alexander was shot.
His mother.
