Chapter 4: The Secret Behind the Office Door
For several seconds, nobody looked at Marcus.
Everyone looked at Clara.
A three-year-old girl standing in her father's arms, wearing a red Christmas dress, holding onto him like the entire world had become unsafe.
She didn't understand what her words meant.
She didn't understand the weight of the accusation.
She only knew what she had heard.
And that made it worse.
Marcus slowly lowered his hands.
"Roman.""
I didn't answer.
My eyes stayed on him.
Because I had spent years trusting that man.
Marcus wasn't just my cousin.
He was the person who stood beside me when my father died. The person who helped me rebuild the family business. The person who knew every security code, every private room, every weakness inside my walls.
If Katherine had betrayed me, it would have destroyed my marriage.
If Marcus had betrayed me, it would have destroyed my foundation.
"Clara," I said softly.
She looked at me.
"Are you sure?""
Her little face tightened.
She nodded.
"Mommy said not to tell.""
The air disappeared from the room.
Katherine's eyes widened.
"Clara.""
I immediately turned toward her.
"Don't.""
She stopped.
Because my voice was no longer that of a husband.
It was the voice of a father.
A father who had just realized his child had been carrying fear alone.
Clara buried her face against my shoulder.
"I was scared Daddy would go away.""
My chest tightened.
I held her closer.
"You should have told me.""
"I tried.""
The words were so quiet I almost didn't hear them.
"I tried when Mommy was mad.""
Katherine looked away.
That hurt more than anger.
Because there was no denial.
No outrage.
No confusion.
Just silence.
Salvatore walked toward Marcus.
"Start talking.""
Marcus laughed once.
A nervous sound.
"You all believe a child over me?""
Salvatore's expression remained cold.
"No.""
He pointed at the document.
"We believe evidence.""
Marcus looked at the paper.
Then at Katherine.
That tiny movement was enough.
I saw the connection.
The silent conversation between them.
They weren't surprised by the accusation.
They were afraid of it.
I stepped toward Marcus.
"How long?""
He frowned.
"What?""
"How long have you been helping her?""
His jaw tightened.
"I haven't.""
"Then explain.""
"I found the policy.""
"You already said that.""
"And I was trying to protect you.""
"By hiding it?""
He looked frustrated.
"Roman, you don't understand.""
"No.""
I shook my head.
"You don't understand.""
The guards remained positioned around the room.
Nobody sat anymore.
Nobody ate.
The Christmas dinner had become an interrogation.
And everyone knew it.
Marcus rubbed his face.
"I made mistakes.""
Katherine looked at him sharply.
"Marcus.""
I noticed.
She wasn't warning him.
She was afraid of him speaking.
That told me more than anything.
"Interesting," I said.
Marcus looked at me.
"What?""
"You and Katherine are both afraid of the same thing.""
Neither answered.
I nodded.
"The truth.""
Marcus looked away.
Salvatore turned toward Elias.
"Doctor, can you test the wine?""
"I already started.""
"And?""
Elias glanced at Katherine.
"Preliminary results suggest something was added.""
Katherine closed her eyes.
A small reaction.
But I saw it.
"Something dangerous?"" I asked.
Elias nodded.
"Yes.""
"Enough to kill me?""
He didn't answer immediately.
That was enough.
Clara began crying again.
"No more Daddy gone.""
I looked down at her.
"I am not going anywhere.""
But inside, I wasn't sure anymore.
Not because of the poison.
Because someone had been planning around my absence.
Someone had imagined my death.
Someone had already decided what would happen afterward.
I carried Clara toward the living room.
"I want her away from this.""
Salvatore nodded.
"Take her.""
I walked past Katherine.
She reached out.
"Roman.""
I stopped.
For a moment, I almost turned.
Because despite everything, she was still the woman I had loved.
The mother of my child.
The person I had promised forever.
Then I remembered Clara on the floor.
I remembered the chair.
The wine.
The words.
When Roman is gone.
I didn't turn around.
"Not now.""
Her hand slowly dropped.
Twenty minutes later, Clara was asleep upstairs.
I sat beside her bed until her breathing became calm.
The Christmas lights outside her window reflected on the snow.
She looked peaceful.
Like she hadn't just exposed a possible murder plot.
Like she hadn't carried a secret bigger than herself.
I touched her hair gently.
"I'm sorry.""
I whispered the words even though she couldn't hear me.
I should have noticed.
I should have protected her better.
A knock came at the door.
I turned.
Salvatore stood there.
"Roman.""
I stepped outside and closed the door.
"What happened?""
His face was serious.
"We searched Marcus's office.""
"And?""
"We found something.""
My stomach tightened.
"What?""
He handed me a small envelope.
No name.
No label.
Just my initials written across the front.
R.D.
"Where was this?""
"In a locked drawer.""
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
A photograph of me.
At my office.
Taken through the window.
The date on the back made my blood run cold.
Six months earlier.
The same day I started preparing divorce papers.
I flipped it over.
There was a message written underneath.
*He doesn't know yet.*
I stared at it.
"Who took this?""
Salvatore shook his head.
"We don't know.""
I looked at him.
"But you found it in Marcus's office.""
"Yes.""
I looked back at the photograph.
Someone had been watching me.
Planning.
Waiting.
Then Salvatore reached into his coat.
"There is more.""
He handed me another piece of paper.
This time, my name wasn't written on it.
Katherine's was.
The document was a private bank transfer.
A large amount of money.
Sent to an offshore account.
I looked at the date.
Two weeks before Christmas.
The same day Katherine had told me she needed money for "family expenses.""
"How much?""
Salvatore looked at me.
"Enough to disappear.""
I folded the paper.
"Where did the money come from?""
He hesitated.
"Your company.""
My eyes narrowed.
"Impossible.""
"Not if someone had access.""
The room felt colder.
Because suddenly, the poison wasn't the only plan.
The wine was just the final step.
Someone had been moving pieces for months.
Stealing.
Preparing.
Waiting.
Then I heard footsteps.
I turned.
Katherine stood at the end of the hallway.
She looked different.
Not like the confident woman from dinner.
Not like the person who had controlled every room she entered.
She looked exhausted.
Broken.
"Roman.""
I didn't move.
"What?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I need to tell you something.""
"About the wine?""
She shook her head.
"About Marcus.""
Salvatore stepped forward.
"Why should we believe you?""
Katherine looked at him.
"Because if I don't tell you now, he will kill me too.""
The hallway went silent.
I stared at her.
"What did you just say?""
She walked closer.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like she was afraid any sudden movement would make us disappear.
"Marcus was never helping me.""
My eyes narrowed.
"Then why was he involved?""
She swallowed.
"Because he was the one who came to me.""
"When?""
"Six months ago.""
My heart sank.
"Why?""
She looked toward Clara's bedroom door.
Then whispered:
"Because he told me Roman DeLuca was going to die soon...""
A cold silence filled the hallway.
"And he said I needed to decide whether I wanted to be the widow who inherited everything...""
She looked at me.
"Or the woman who ended up blamed for his murder.""
Before I could respond, every light in the house suddenly went out.
And from downstairs, we heard the sound of a door opening.
May you like
A door that was supposed to be locked.
The door to my private office.
