Chapter 5: The Room That Was Never Empty
The sound of my office door opening was quiet.
Too quiet.
A normal person wouldn't have noticed it.
But my entire life had been built on noticing things other people ignored.
The slight movement of a lock.
The change in footsteps.
The sound of someone trying not to be heard.
Every instinct I had screamed the same thing.
Someone was inside.
Salvatore immediately reached for his weapon.
The guards moved through the darkness with practiced precision.
Katherine grabbed my arm.
"Roman.""
I pulled away.
Not violently.
Not angrily.
Just enough to remind her that I no longer knew which side she was standing on.
"You stay here.""
Her eyes filled with fear.
"You don't understand.""
"No.""
I looked toward the staircase.
"I understand more than I did an hour ago.""
The emergency lights flickered on, casting the hallway in a dim red glow.
Clara was upstairs.
Alone.
That was the only thing I cared about.
I turned to Salvatore.
"Get two men to Clara's room.""
He nodded.
Already moving.
Then he stopped.
"Roman.""
I looked back.
"If Marcus is inside—"
"I know.""
My voice was quiet.
"And if he isn't, someone wants us to think he is.""
Nobody argued.
Because that was exactly what worried me.
A person who planned carefully didn't leave accidents.
They created them.
I moved downstairs with three guards behind me.
The house that had felt warm an hour ago now felt unfamiliar.
The Christmas decorations looked different.
The lights on the tree.
The candles.
The expensive decorations Katherine had chosen.
Everything looked like a disguise.
A beautiful cover hiding something rotten underneath.
When we reached the hallway outside my office, the door was open.
Just slightly.
I stared at it.
My office had never been left unlocked.
Not once.
I pushed the door open.
The room was dark.
The smell hit me first.
My cologne.
Paper.
Old wood.
And something else.
Smoke.
"Nobody enters," I ordered.
The guards stopped.
I stepped inside alone.
My desk was exactly where it had always been.
My files were stacked neatly.
My computer was closed.
At first glance, everything looked normal.
Then I noticed the chair.
It was pulled out.
Someone had been sitting there.
I walked closer.
On my desk was a single glass.
Empty.
Not a wineglass.
A whiskey glass.
Beside it was a piece of paper.
I picked it up.
One sentence.
*You were supposed to trust the wrong person.*
My jaw tightened.
Salvatore entered behind me.
"I told you not to come in alone.""
I ignored him.
"Search everything.""
The guards began checking the room.
I walked around my desk slowly.
Then I saw it.
A small scratch near the bottom drawer.
The drawer that held my private records.
The drawer only I had the key to.
Except someone had opened it.
I pulled it out.
Empty.
The divorce papers were gone.
The original copies.
The ones Katherine had mentioned.
Gone.
Salvatore looked over.
"What was there?""
I didn't answer immediately.
Because the question wasn't what was missing.
The question was who knew it was there.
Then I heard footsteps.
Everyone turned.
Marcus stood at the doorway.
Two guards immediately pointed their weapons at him.
His face was pale.
"What happened?""
I stared at him.
"You tell me.""
He looked around the room.
Then at the open drawer.
His expression changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
That was enough.
"Marcus.""
He swallowed.
"Roman, listen to me.""
"Where were you?""
He hesitated.
Again.
Always that hesitation.
"I was outside.""
"Doing what?""
"Trying to think.""
I almost laughed.
"At midnight?""
He looked exhausted.
"I needed air.""
"After my wife accused you of helping her kill me?""
His eyes dropped.
That was when I knew.
He knew exactly what she had said.
"How much did you hear?""
Marcus didn't answer.
Salvatore stepped forward.
"Answer him.""
Marcus looked at me.
"I heard enough.""
The room became silent.
"You heard enough," I repeated.
"Yes.""
"And you still walked away?""
His face tightened.
"Because I knew you wouldn't believe me.""
I stared at him.
"You have spent twenty years telling me you know me.""
"I do.""
"No.""
I shook my head.
"You know the version of me that trusted you.""
That hurt him.
I saw it.
For a moment, I saw my cousin again.
The man who stood beside me when we were younger.
The man who protected me.
Then I remembered the paper.
The photo.
The stolen documents.
The attack at dinner.
"Tell me the truth.""
Marcus looked away.
"I made a mistake.""
"What mistake?""
"I thought I could control it.""
The words were quiet.
But they changed everything.
Salvatore's expression hardened.
"Control what?""
Marcus didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
"What did you think you could control?""
Finally, he looked at me.
"Katherine.""
The name hung between us.
"You were involved with her?""
"No.""
"Then explain.""
Marcus ran his hands through his hair.
"Six months ago, Katherine came to me.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Why?""
"She thought you were leaving her.""
"Because of the divorce papers.""
Marcus nodded.
"She was angry. Scared. She wanted revenge.""
"And you helped her?""
"No.""
His voice became sharper.
"I tried to stop her.""
Nobody moved.
"Then why hide everything?""
"Because I thought I could fix it before you found out.""
I stared at him.
"You don't fix a murder plan by hiding evidence.""
"I know.""
His voice cracked.
"I know that now.""
Salvatore stepped closer.
"What did she ask you to do?""
Marcus looked at him.
Then at me.
"She wanted access.""
"Access to what?""
"Your office.""
The answer landed heavily.
"Why?""
Marcus swallowed.
"She wanted your company records. Your accounts. She wanted to know what would happen after your death.""
I looked toward the empty drawer.
"She wasn't just planning to kill me.""
Marcus shook his head.
"No.""
"Then what?""
His eyes filled with regret.
"She wanted to make it look like you planned everything yourself.""
The room went silent.
A murder was one thing.
But framing the victim was something else.
A person who wanted me dead was dangerous.
A person who wanted the world to believe I deserved it was worse.
"How?""
Marcus looked at the desk.
"She had someone helping her.""
"Who?""
"I don't know.""
"Don't lie.""
"I'm not.""
He stepped closer.
"Roman, I swear to you, I never knew who the third person was.""
"Third person?""
His face changed.
Too late.
I caught it.
"What third person?""
Marcus froze.
I moved toward him.
"Marcus.""
He closed his eyes.
Then whispered:
"Katherine wasn't the one who started this.""
The room became completely still.
"She was recruited.""
"By who?""
He didn't answer.
"By who?""
His voice was barely audible.
"Someone who knew everything about you.""
My blood ran cold.
"Someone inside my family?""
Marcus looked at me.
"Someone who has been close enough to watch you for years.""
A phone suddenly rang.
Everyone froze.
Not a guard's phone.
Not mine.
Katherine's.
She was still upstairs.
The ringtone echoed through the silent house.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then Salvatore picked up the phone from where Katherine had left it on the table.
The screen showed a name.
A name none of us expected.
My heart stopped.
Because it wasn't Marcus.
It wasn't a stranger.
It wasn't some hidden enemy.
It was someone whose blood ran through my veins.
Salvatore looked at me.
And for the first time that night, the old man's face showed genuine fear.
May you like
The caller ID said:
*Dad.*
