Chapter 7 - The Man Behind the Gate.
The guard’s name was Adrian Cole.
At least that was the name on his employment file.
By the time Gabriel reached the third floor, Adrian was gone.
His radio lay beneath the service staircase.
His jacket had been folded neatly on a bench as if he expected to return for it.
Lorenzo ordered every gate closed.
The estate’s security lights came on even though the morning sun was already rising over the Atlantic.
Hunter remained in the nursery with Leo while the mansion filled with controlled panic.
Marco arrived twenty minutes later.
He looked genuinely angry when Lorenzo showed him the restaurant photograph.
“I met him twice,” Marco said.
“For what?”
“He represented a private security vendor.”
“You approved his placement in my house.”
“I approved a company.”
“You sat across from him at dinner.”
Marco slammed his palm onto the desk.
“Because you were disappearing into this nursery while the rest of us kept the organization from collapsing.”
Hunter heard the argument through the open study door.
Lorenzo’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“My wife died.”
“I know.”
“My son was dying.”
“I know that too.”
“Then do not complain that I missed meetings.”
Marco exhaled and lowered his voice.
“I am saying someone exploited your grief.”
Hunter looked at Leo.
That part, at least, sounded true.
Gabriel returned carrying Adrian’s personnel file.
“His fingerprints do not match the background check.”
Marco stared at him.
“How did that get through?”
“Someone changed the file after clearance.”
Lorenzo looked toward his brother.
Marco noticed.
“Do not look at me like that.”
“I am looking at everyone like that.”
Gabriel opened a tablet.
“We recovered a partial access log.”
Adrian entered the nursery corridor eleven times after midnight during the last two weeks.
He had no assigned duty there on any of those nights.
Hunter felt cold.
“Was he there when the bottles were prepared?”
Gabriel nodded.
“Several times.”
Lorenzo’s hand curled into a fist.
A radio crackled from the hallway.
One of the gate teams had found movement near the old greenhouse.
Gabriel and Lorenzo left immediately.
Hunter stayed behind with two replacement guards.
Ten minutes passed.
Then fifteen.
Leo woke hungry.
Hunter prepared a fresh bottle from sealed supplies and began feeding him.
A soft knock came at the door.
One of the guards opened it.
An elderly housekeeper named Mrs. Vale stood outside holding folded linens.
Hunter had seen her twice before.
She was small, silver-haired, and moved with the stiff dignity of someone who had worked in grand houses her entire life.
“I was told the nursery needed clean blankets,” she said.
Hunter froze.
“Vale?”
The woman looked confused.
“Yes.”
“What is your first name?”
“Margaret.”
Hunter’s pulse quickened.
“Do you have a son named Nicholas?”
Margaret dropped the linens.
Every expression vanished from her face.
“Who told you that name?”
Hunter stood slowly, holding Leo close.
Margaret looked toward the guards.
Then back to Hunter.
“My son died five years ago.”
Hunter swallowed.
“Someone is using his name.”
Margaret’s eyes filled with immediate terror.
“No.”
She stepped backward.
“No, no, no.”
One guard reached toward her.
Margaret grabbed his sleeve.
“You have to get that baby out of this house.”
Hunter’s heart slammed against her ribs.
“Why?”
Margaret looked toward the ceiling as if the walls themselves might be listening.
“Because Nicholas did not die in an accident.”
May you like
She lowered her voice.
“He died after he discovered what Marco Rossi was building beneath this estate.”
