Chapter 3 - The Mafia Boss Locked Down His Mansion to Protect Me—But I Discovered the Man Guarding My Door Was Connected to His Brother's MurderBy midnight, the Beacon Hill brownstone was surrounded by security vehicles.
Men in dark coats stood at every entrance.
The garden gates were locked.
The windows were checked.
And Graham Vale stood in the center of his study, staring at a photograph of the bloody message left inside the family archive.
AUDREY KNOWS.
The words had been written across a cabinet door.
I stood beside him.
“Who knows what?”
Graham didn't answer.
“Graham.”
He looked at me.
“I don't know.”
I studied his face.
For the first time since our wedding, he looked genuinely frightened.
Not for himself.
For me.
The next morning, I began reviewing the construction records.
Graham had given me access to the family's legitimate business files.
He hadn't offered willingly.
I'd spent twenty minutes explaining that threatening employees and locking doors would not solve a financial conspiracy.
Eventually, he'd handed me a security badge.
“Don't make me regret this.”
I smiled.
“No promises.”
The first thing I noticed was a discrepancy.
The construction platform had been inspected twice.
The original report listed the support cables as compliant.
The revised report claimed the cables had been installed incorrectly.
But the purchase records told a different story.
The cables had been replaced three days before the collapse.
By a company called Northpoint Structural Services.
I searched the corporate registry.
Northpoint had been dissolved two months after Miles died.
Its registered manager was a man named Daniel Cross.
And Daniel Cross had previously worked for Victor Sloane.
I stared at the screen.
Then I printed everything.
Graham was in the kitchen when I found him.
He was making coffee.
“You're going to hate this.”
He looked at the papers.
“I already do.”
I spread them across the counter.
“Northpoint replaced the cables. Victor had a relationship with the company. Everett authorized the contract.”
Graham stared.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Victor was my brother's friend.”
I looked at him.
“Then why did he lie about knowing Miles?”
Graham said nothing.
I watched the realization settle over him.
Slowly.
Painfully.
He picked up the photograph.
Then he whispered:
“Miles trusted him.”
That afternoon, Victor arrived at the house.
Graham met him in the study.
I listened from the hallway.
“Tell me about Northpoint,” Graham said.
Victor hesitated.
“Construction company.”
“Who owned it?”
“Don't remember.”
Graham's voice turned cold.
“Try.”
A long silence.
Then Victor said, “Everett handled those contracts.”
“Did you know Daniel Cross?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
“Did you know Miles?”
Victor said nothing.
Graham's voice rose.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
I heard a chair scrape.
Then Victor spoke again.
“Graham, there are things about your brother you don't understand.”
My blood ran cold.
“What things?” Graham demanded.
Victor lowered his voice.
“Miles was investigating the family.”
Silence.
Then Graham said, “Explain.”
Victor sighed.
“He found financial transfers that didn't belong in the construction accounts. He thought Everett was stealing.”
“And was he?”
Victor hesitated.
“Yes.”
Graham's voice dropped.
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Everett threatened my family.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was again.
Fear.
The currency that seemed to run through every branch of the Vale family.
That evening, Graham dismissed Victor from his security position pending an independent investigation.
Victor left without argument.
But before he walked out, he looked at me.
His expression was strange.
Almost apologetic.
“Mrs. Vale,” he said quietly, “be careful who you trust.”
I stared at him.
“Does that include you?”
He looked away.
“Especially me.”
Then he left.
At two in the morning, I found Graham in the kitchen again.
He was sitting at the table with a bottle of bourbon.
I took the glass from his hand.
“Enough.”
He looked up.
“You're becoming very comfortable giving me orders.”
“Someone has to.”
I poured the bourbon into the sink.
He watched without protest.
Then he whispered:
“I thought Miles died because your father was careless.”
I sat opposite him.
“I know.”
“I spent four years hating your family.”
“I know.”
“And now I don't know what to believe.”
I reached across the table.
“Believe the evidence.”
He looked at my hand.
Then slowly took it.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Finally, he said:
“You should never have been dragged into this.”
I smiled sadly.
“I'm beginning to think I was dragged into it long before the wedding.”
His expression changed.
“What do you mean?”
I showed him the latest document I'd found.
A trust amendment.
Dated six months before Miles died.
It named Miles as the successor to the family's legitimate businesses if Graham became incapacitated.
But attached to the amendment was another document.
A proposed marriage arrangement.
Between Graham Vale and Audrey Lennox.
Prepared four years before our wedding.
Graham stared.
Then he whispered:
May you like
“Charlotte.”
End of Chapter 3.
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