Chapter 4 - The Shadow in the Mirror
Nathan stared at the photograph, the color draining from his face.
For three years, the police, his private investigators, and his own syndicate had told him the same thing: his wife’s death was a tragic accident. A blown tire on a rain-slicked highway.
But this photo, hidden in her coat, proved she knew Victoria was meeting with Elias Thorne—the scarred man in the picture. Elias was the ruthless enforcer of a rival family Nathan had dismantled five years ago.
“She knew,” Nathan breathed, his voice dangerously low. “My wife knew Victoria was working with Elias. She hid this photo before she got in the car.”
He looked up at Lily. The young maid was pale, clutching Olivia tightly.
“Lily,” Nathan said, enunciating carefully. “Did you know about this?”
She shook her head rapidly. “No, sir. I’ve never seen it before. But I recognize that man.”
Nathan’s entire body tensed. “You know Elias Thorne?”
“Not his name,” Lily signed and spoke simultaneously, her voice thick with panic. “But I saw him. Three years ago. He was the man who caused the train derailment. The one where I lost my hearing.”
The room went dead silent.
Nathan’s mind raced. The timeline aligned perfectly. The train derailment wasn't an accident either. It was a coordinated distraction used by the Thorne family to pull Nathan’s security forces away from the city—leaving his wife’s transport vulnerable on the highway.
Lily wasn't just a maid. She was collateral damage from the very war that killed Olivia’s mother.
Before Nathan could process the revelation, a heavy knock rattled the study doors.
Marcus, the head of security, stepped inside. His face was grim.
“Boss. Victoria is gone.”
Nathan stood up. “I told you to watch her pack.”
“She didn't pack,” Marcus said, holding up a shattered piece of the bedroom window. “She went out the second-story balcony. But she left something on her bed.”
Marcus handed Nathan a heavy gold watch.
Nathan recognized it instantly. It was the ceremonial watch he had gifted to his most trusted underboss, Julian, ten years ago.
“Why did Victoria have Julian’s watch?” Nathan demanded.
But he already knew the answer. Victoria hadn't just bypassed security on her own. She had inside help.
“Lock down the estate,” Nathan ordered Marcus. “Nobody enters. Nobody leaves. Put heavily armed men on Olivia’s door.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nathan turned back to Lily. The young woman was trembling, her deaf ear ringing with phantom noise.
“Lily, I need you to stay in Olivia’s room tonight,” Nathan said softly. “Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone but me.”
Lily nodded, scooping the exhausted eight-year-old into her arms.
An hour later, Lily sat in the dark on the edge of Olivia’s canopy bed. The little girl was fast asleep, her breathing steady.
Lily couldn't sleep. The silence in the room terrified her. Without her hearing aid, she wouldn't hear a door open, footsteps on the carpet, or a gun being cocked. She had to rely entirely on her eyes.
She walked over to the large vintage vanity mirror in the corner of the room to splash water on her face.
As she stared at her own pale reflection, she noticed something odd. The bottom right corner of the mirror’s heavy wooden frame was slightly loose. A small piece of paper was wedged behind the glass.
Lily carefully pulled it out.
It was a child’s drawing.
Drawn in bright crayons, it depicted a stick-figure woman with yellow hair—Olivia’s mother. Standing next to her was a car. But underneath the car was a second stick figure, holding a wrench.
And drawn heavily in red crayon on the figure's wrist was a gold watch.
Lily flipped the drawing over. In messy, childlike handwriting, a sentence was scribbled:
Uncle Julian fixed Mommy’s car before she went to heaven.
Lily’s heart stopped. Olivia had seen it. The little girl had witnessed Julian tampering with the brakes, but she had been too young to understand what it meant. She thought he was just fixing it.
Suddenly, Lily saw a shadow move in the reflection of the mirror.
May you like
Someone was standing directly behind her in the dark.
Before Lily could scream, a heavy, calloused hand clamped hard over her mouth.
