CHAPTER 3 — THE SECRET IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
Alexander stood motionless behind the bookshelf.
He barely breathed.
Veronica was only a few feet away.
“Get Sofia out of the house before Alexander learns who her real father is.”
The words kept repeating inside his head.
His daughter.
His Sofia.
Her real father?
Alexander tightened his grip around the old photograph.
For twelve years, he had believed Sofia was his biological daughter.
He had been there when she was born.
He had held her tiny body against his chest.
He had whispered her name.
He had watched her take her first steps.
He had stayed awake beside her hospital bed when she had pneumonia.
And now, one sentence had turned his entire life upside down.
Veronica ended the call.
She walked toward the desk.
Alexander quickly slipped the photograph and the letter inside his jacket.
Then he moved deeper into the shadows.
Veronica opened the secret compartment.
Her eyes widened.
Empty.
She searched again.
Nothing.
“Damn it.”
She pulled out her phone.
“I know you're here.”
Alexander remained silent.
Veronica slowly walked around the study.
“You always were predictable, Alexander.”
She stopped beside the bookshelf.
“If you found the photograph, then you know there are things your father never told you.”
Alexander stepped out.
Veronica froze.
His expression was unreadable.
“Who is Sofia's father?”
Veronica said nothing.
Alexander walked closer.
“I asked you a question.”
“She is your daughter.”
“Then why did you tell someone to get her out of this house before I learned who her real father was?”
Veronica's face went pale.
Alexander held up the photograph.
“What is this?”
Veronica stared at it.
Then she whispered,
“You shouldn't have opened that room.”
Alexander's voice hardened.
“You're not answering me.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain it.”
Veronica shook her head.
“You're not ready.”
Alexander laughed bitterly.
“Not ready?”
His voice rose.
“You've been treating my daughter like a servant while hiding secrets about her mother and her father, and I'm not ready?”
Veronica stepped backward.
“Alexander, listen to me.”
“No.”
He pointed toward the door.
“Tomorrow morning, you're leaving this house.”
Veronica stared at him.
“You can't throw me out.”
“I can.”
“This mansion is mine too.”
“Not anymore.”
She smiled.
A cold, almost confident smile.
“You really think you can throw me out?”
Alexander stopped.
“What does that mean?”
Veronica walked toward him.
“You've spent twelve years believing you inherited everything from your father.”
She leaned closer.
“But you didn't.”
Alexander's eyes narrowed.
“What are you talking about?”
Veronica whispered,
“Ask your father.”
“He's dead.”
“I know.”
She smiled.
“That's why you'll never hear the truth from him.”
Veronica walked out.
Alexander remained in the study.
His heart was pounding.
He looked at the photograph again.
Sofia was a baby.
Elena was standing beside her.
And behind them stood a man Alexander didn't recognize.
The man had his hand on Elena's shoulder.
Alexander turned the photograph over.
There was a handwritten note.
Daniel Mercer — April 14.
Alexander knew that name.
Daniel Mercer had been his father's business partner.
He had disappeared shortly before Elena's death.
Officially, Daniel had died in a boating accident.
But Alexander had never seen a body.
He immediately called his attorney.
“Get me everything on Daniel Mercer.”
There was a pause.
“Why?”
“Because I think he's alive.”
The attorney became silent.
Then said,
“You may want to sit down.”
Alexander frowned.
“Why?”
“Because Daniel Mercer isn't dead.”
Alexander's blood ran cold.
“Where is he?”
“We've been trying to find him for years.”
“Find him.”
“I'll need time.”
“You have until morning.”
Alexander ended the call.
He walked upstairs.
Sofia was still asleep.
He sat beside her bed.
For a long moment, he simply watched her breathe.
Then Sofia opened her eyes.
“Daddy?”
Alexander immediately softened.
“I'm here.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Never.”
She sat up.
“Is Veronica leaving?”
Alexander hesitated.
“Yes.”
Sofia looked relieved.
Then she whispered,
“Daddy?”
“What?”
“Mommy told me something before she died.”
Alexander froze.
“What did she tell you?”
Sofia looked toward the bedroom door.
“She said there was a secret room.”
Alexander's heart skipped.
“What room?”
“The room behind the fireplace.”
He stared at her.
“What did your mother say was inside?”
Sofia shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
Then she reached beneath her pillow.
She pulled out a tiny silver key.
“She gave me this.”
Alexander stared at it.
There was a symbol engraved on the metal.
The same symbol he had seen on his father's old documents.
A circle surrounding the letter V.
Alexander slowly took the key.
“Why didn't you tell me before?”
Sofia looked frightened.
“Because Veronica told me never to show it to you.”
Alexander's blood ran cold.
“Why?”
Sofia's eyes filled with tears.
“She said if you ever found out what the key opens…”
She stopped.
Alexander leaned closer.
“What?”
Sofia whispered:
“She said Daddy would learn that Mommy didn't die by accident.”
Alexander went completely still.
Outside the bedroom window, a car engine suddenly roared to life.
Alexander rushed to the window.
A black SUV was speeding away from the mansion.
He couldn't see the driver's face.
But he saw someone sitting in the back seat.
Veronica.
Alexander grabbed his phone.
“Security! Stop that car!”
Then he looked down at the silver key in his hand.
For twelve years, he had believed his wife's death was a tragedy.
Now he knew something far worse.
May you like
It may have been murder.
And someone had just realized that Sofia was holding the key to the truth.
