Chapter 4
I had never known real fear until a three-year-old girl disappeared from my house.
Not business fear.
Not financial fear.
Not the fear I felt when my father died.
This was different.
Primitive.
Physical.
Every second became unbearable.
Marco locked down the estate.
Detective Brooks called an emergency response team.
Security footage showed a maintenance van entering through the north service gate fifteen minutes earlier.
The electronic authorization belonged to a landscaping contractor.
But no landscaping work had been scheduled.
“Camera,” I said.
Marco rewound the footage.
The van stopped near the conservatory.
A man in a cap exited.
He entered through the garden door using an access code.
“How did he get that?”
Marco’s face darkened.
“Only staff and estate management have access.”
Vivienne had estate management access.
My stomach twisted.
The footage showed the man returning ninety seconds later.
Rosie was in his arms.
She wasn’t struggling.
That confused me until Marco zoomed in.
The man was holding something over her mouth.
I slammed my fist into the desk.
Detective Brooks grabbed my shoulder.
“Damian.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“No.”
“They took her.”
“And if you lose control, you become useless to her.”
I hated her for saying it.
Because she was right.
Traffic cameras caught the van heading west.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone went silent.
Brooks motioned for me to answer and placed the call on speaker.
“Hello?”
Vivienne’s voice filled the room.
“You should have let it go.”
My entire body went cold.
“Where is Rosie?”
“Safe.”
“If you hurt her—”
“I haven’t.”
“Let me speak to her.”
A pause.
Then a small frightened voice.
“Mr. Damian?”
My knees nearly gave out.
“I’m here, Rosie.”
“I want Mommy.”
I closed my eyes.
“I know.”
“Come get me.”
“I will.”
Vivienne returned.
“You see? She’s fine.”
“What do you want?”
“The flash drive.”
Detective Brooks wrote on a pad.
Keep her talking.
“You know the police copied everything.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“What I care about is the original.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Then Vivienne laughed softly.
“You still don’t understand what Sofia found.”
“Then explain it.”
“Bring the drive.”
“Where?”
“I’ll call again.”
The line went dead.
Brooks immediately started issuing orders.
I looked at her.
“She wants something specific.”
“Yes.”
“Not the evidence generally.”
“No.”
“The original drive.”
Brooks nodded.
“That suggests something on it may be encrypted, hidden, or usable in a way copies aren’t.”
Marco frowned.
“Could be a hardware key.”
Detective Brooks turned to him.
“What?”
“Some encrypted systems require the original device identity.”
The police tech examined the flash drive.
Thirty minutes later, he found a hidden partition.
Password protected.
“We didn’t see this at the bank because we copied only visible files.”
“What’s inside?”
“We need the password.”
I knew immediately.
Sofia would choose something involving Rosie.
We tried her birthday.
Wrong.
Her husband’s birthday.
Wrong.
The date he died.
Wrong.
Then I remembered the tiny star carved inside her wedding ring.
“What about a star?”
The technician looked at me.
“Word?”
“Try RosieStar.”
Wrong.
“LittleStar.”
Wrong.
I remembered something Sofia once said when Rosie visited the kitchen.
My North Star.
“NorthStar.”
The screen unlocked.
A folder appeared.
Inside was one video.
We played it.
Sofia appeared on screen, sitting inside her cottage.
She looked terrified.
“If Damian is watching this, I hope Rosie is safe.”
My throat closed.
“I discovered Miss Vivienne and Mr. Price are moving money through companies connected to Vale International. I believe they plan to make Damian appear mentally or medically incapable after the marriage.”
I stared at the screen.
Sofia continued.
“But that is not the worst thing.”
She held up a medical report.
“I found records showing someone has been giving Damian medication without his knowledge.”
I froze.
Marco looked at me.
Sofia’s voice shook.
“Small amounts. In supplements, drinks, maybe food. The doctor in these messages says prolonged exposure could cause confusion, weakness, fainting, and eventually a medical crisis.”
My memories shifted.
Headaches.
Exhaustion.
Moments of dizziness over the previous months.
I had blamed work.
Sofia continued.
“I confronted Miss Vivienne. She denied everything. Then she came to my cottage tonight.”
The timestamp was 1:07 a.m.
After Vivienne had left according to security footage.
“She took my wooden box because she believes the evidence is inside.”
Sofia looked off camera.
“I hid the real evidence at the bank.”
My eyes burned.
“Before she left, Miss Vivienne saw my blood-pressure medicine.”
Sofia held up a bottle.
“She touched it.”
Detective Brooks leaned closer.
Sofia swallowed hard.
“I don’t know what she did. I am afraid to take it.”
Then she whispered.
“If something happens to me, test the pills.”
The video ended.
Nobody moved.
Detective Brooks spoke first.
“Where are Sofia’s belongings?”
Marco answered.
“Storage.”
We ran.
The cottage possessions had been packed into labeled containers after the funeral.
Kitchenware.
Clothing.
Rosie’s toys.
Bathroom supplies.
Medication.
There.
A small prescription bottle.
Brooks stopped me before I touched it.
Evidence technicians bagged it.
Then my phone rang again.
Vivienne.
I answered.
“Where?”
“Not yet.”
“You’ve got what you wanted. I found the hidden video.”
Silence.
I continued.
“Sofia recorded everything.”
Vivienne’s breathing changed.
“She was a thief.”
“She was protecting me.”
“She wanted your money.”
“Then why didn’t she take any?”
No answer.
“She could have sold those files. She could have blackmailed me. Instead she hid them and wrote one thing.”
I looked at Rosie’s card on the table.
“Protect Rosie.”
Vivienne’s voice became cold.
“You always were sentimental at the wrong time.”
There she was.
The woman beneath the polished smile.
“What did you do to Sofia?”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“You changed her medication.”
“No.”
“The lab will tell us.”
Another silence.
Then she said something strange.
“You think this started with Sofia?”
My skin prickled.
“What does that mean?”
“Ask Marco what happened to your first fiancée.”
I looked across the room.
Marco’s face changed.
My first fiancée, Claire, had died eight years earlier in a car accident.
Vivienne continued.
“You really don’t know anything about the people around you, Damian.”
The call ended.
I stared at Marco.
“What did she mean?”
He looked as shaken as I felt.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
Detective Brooks interrupted.
“Focus on Rosie.”
She was right again.
An officer entered.
“We found the van.”
“Where?”
“Abandoned near Oyster Bay.”
My heart stopped.
“Rosie?”
The officer shook his head.
“Empty.”
But inside the vehicle, they found a pink pajama button.
And a note.
Handwritten.
May you like
Bring the drive alone, Damian.
Or the next thing you find will not be a button.
