Chapter 5 - What Lily's Father Had DiscoveredBy sunrise, Vincent's estate looked like a military compound.
She refused the hotel.
She refused what Vincent called “a secure corporate residence,” which Claire correctly guessed meant another luxury apartment owned through one of his companies.
But after someone threw a brick through Lily's window, she could no longer refuse protection.
So Vincent proposed the one place no outsider could easily reach.
His home in Westchester.
“It is temporary,” Claire said.
“Of course.”
“I mean it.”
“I heard you.”
“We stay until the police arrest whoever did this.”
Vincent looked at Marco.
Marco stared at the floor to keep from smiling.
Claire pointed at Vincent.
“And nobody buys us anything.”
“Define anything.”
“Anything.”
“What about food?”
“We can eat your food.”
“How generous.”
Claire glared.
Lily giggled.
Two hours later, their aging sedan followed Vincent's security convoy north.
Lily's face remained pressed to the window as Manhattan disappeared.
“Are we leaving New York?”
“Technically no,” Claire said.
When the iron gates opened, even Claire stopped talking.
Vincent's estate covered twenty-three wooded acres.
The main house was stone and glass, large without looking like a palace. Gardens stretched behind it toward a small lake.
Lily stared.
“Does a king live here?”
Vincent, sitting opposite her in the SUV, answered, “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Do you have a dungeon?”
Marco laughed.
Vincent sighed.
“No dungeon.”
“Secret tunnels?”
“One.”
Claire looked at him.
“What?”
“Old service tunnel. The house was built in 1924.”
Lily's eyes widened.
“I knew it!”
Inside, the staff greeted Vincent with a deference Claire disliked immediately.
A housekeeper named Rosa hugged him anyway.
“You nearly died, and then you leave the hospital early.”
“Good to see you too.”
Rosa turned toward Claire and Lily.
Her expression softened.
“You must be the brave girl.”
Lily hid behind Claire's coat.
“I'm Lily.”
“I know.”
Within an hour, Lily discovered Vincent's house had a library with a rolling ladder.
A greenhouse.
A pond full of koi.
And an ancient golden retriever named Caesar who immediately abandoned Vincent and followed Lily everywhere.
“He likes me,” Lily announced.
“He has terrible judgment,” Vincent replied.
For several hours, danger almost disappeared.
Then Claire saw the photograph.
It sat on a piano in a room Vincent rarely entered.
A smiling woman.
A boy around eleven.
And a much younger Vincent standing between them.
Claire stopped.
Vincent appeared behind her.
“My wife, Isabella.”
Claire turned.
“And your son?”
“Michael.”
There was something in his voice that made her hesitate.
“Where are they?”
“Gone.”
She understood.
“I'm sorry.”
“Car accident. Twelve years ago.”
Lily entered with Caesar.
“Is that your family?”
Vincent nodded.
“Your boy looks like you.”
“Poor kid.”
Lily smiled.
Then she looked closer.
“How old was he?”
“Eleven.”
“My daddy died too.”
Claire's breath caught.
Vincent looked at her.
“I know.”
Lily continued innocently.
“He fell from a building.”
“Lily.”
“What?”
Claire shook her head.
Vincent felt the old investigation sitting like a stone inside him.
He had not told Claire that his company had held part ownership in the subcontractor responsible for Daniel's death.
Not yet.
He needed facts first.
That evening, Marco found him in the office.
“We located Anthony.”
“Alive?”
“For now.”
Vincent stood.
“What happened?”
“Someone broke into his house. Housekeeper found him unconscious.”
“Hospital?”
“Private clinic.”
“Gabriel?”
“Gone.”
Vincent leaned over the desk.
“Freeze everything he has connected to us.”
“Already started.”
“And Hartman?”
Marco placed a flash drive on the desk.
“You won't like this.”
Vincent inserted it.
Documents filled the screen.
Internal audits.
Payments.
Safety reports.
A chain of emails dating back years.
Hartman Industrial had discovered structural defects in a batch of imported scaffold anchors months before Daniel Carter's death.
Replacing them would have delayed six construction projects.
Cost millions.
Gabriel Russo, then an executive overseeing procurement, ordered the reports buried.
Anthony found out afterward.
And did nothing.
Vincent stared at the screen.
“My company owned forty percent.”
“Yes.”
“Was I told?”
Marco pointed toward an email.
One line stood out.
Do not escalate to VM. Anthony will handle exposure internally.
Vincent leaned back.
For decades, loyalty had been his religion.
Anthony Russo had been closer than a brother.
And that loyalty had hidden the death of Lily's father.
Vincent whispered, “How many?”
Marco knew what he meant.
“Daniel Carter was the only fatality in that particular collapse. Two others were injured.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“Claire deserves to know.”
“Yes.”
“I'll tell her.”
Before he could leave, security chief Tom Reyes burst through the office door.
“Sir.”
Vincent immediately stood.
“What?”
“We have movement at the north fence.”
“How many?”
“Unknown.”
“Claire and Lily?”
“In the library.”
Vincent grabbed his jacket.
“Lock down the house.”
The lights flickered.
Then died.
Emergency lights illuminated the hall in red.
A distant alarm began sounding.
Claire stepped into the corridor holding Lily.
“What happened?”
Vincent approached.
“Power problem.”
“You're lying.”
“Yes.”
At least he was learning.
Marco spoke into his radio.
“Team Two, status?”
Static.
Then—
“North fence breached. Two suspects.”
Claire's eyes widened.
Vincent took Lily's hand.
“Remember the secret tunnel?”
For once, she did not smile.
Claire followed as Vincent led them through the library.
He pulled a hidden latch behind a bookshelf.
The wall swung inward.
Lily stared despite her fear.
“You really have one.”
“Unfortunately.”
Marco handed Vincent a flashlight.
“You go. I'll stay.”
“No.”
“Vince.”
“This is my house.”
“Exactly. Which means you know the tunnel.”
Gunshots cracked somewhere outside.
Claire flinched.
Vincent made his decision.
“Go.”
Marco remained behind.
Vincent guided Claire and Lily into the narrow stone passage.
Caesar squeezed in beside them.
The bookshelf closed.
Darkness swallowed them.
They moved quickly.
“Where does this go?” Claire asked.
“Old carriage house.”
“How far?”
“About three hundred yards.”
Lily squeezed Vincent's hand.
“Are bad men coming?”
Vincent looked down.
“Yes.”
Claire inhaled.
He added, “But they won't reach you.”
Halfway through the tunnel, Vincent stopped.
Footsteps.
Behind them.
Someone had entered the passage.
Claire heard them too.
“Vincent?”
He handed her the flashlight.
“Keep going.”
“No.”
“Take Lily.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What I have to.”
Lily grabbed his sleeve.
“Don't die again.”
The absurdity of it nearly broke his heart.
He knelt.
“I'll try very hard.”
Claire pulled Lily forward.
Vincent remained in darkness.
The footsteps came closer.
A beam of light appeared around the bend.
Vincent pressed himself against the wall.
One silhouette.
Then another.
The first man moved past.
Vincent struck hard.
The attacker dropped.
The second raised a weapon.
A gunshot exploded in the tunnel.
Claire screamed farther ahead.
Then silence.
“Vincent!”
No answer.
She turned back.
“Stay here,” she told Lily.
“No!”
Claire took three steps.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
She froze.
Vincent appeared, breathing heavily, blood spreading along one sleeve.
“It's not mine.”
Claire almost collapsed.
Behind him, one attacker lay unconscious.
The other had fled.
Vincent picked up the flashlight.
“Move.”
They reached the carriage house moments before security surrounded them.
Marco arrived furious.
“How the hell did they know about the tunnel?”
Vincent looked back toward the estate.
Only household staff and senior security knew it existed.
Claire understood immediately.
“You have someone inside your own house.”
Vincent nodded.
“Yes.”
A security guard approached carrying something wrapped in cloth.
“We found this near the tunnel entrance.”
He opened his hand.
A ruby-red stone glittered beneath the emergency lights.
It had broken from a ring.
Vincent's face hardened.
Gabriel had not merely threatened Lily.
May you like
He had entered Vincent's home.
And this time, he had left something behind.
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