Chapter 3 - Unraveling the DossierThe staff suite was modest—clean, orderly, smelling faintly of lavender soap and baby powder.
Clara Bennett sat on the edge of a neat twin bed, her posture rigid, her knuckles white as she clutched a small, worn photo album against her chest. Little Rosie was hidden behind her mother’s back, peeking out with wide, frightened eyes, clutching her stuffed rabbit.
Julian didn't smile. He didn't offer a polite greeting. He closed the door behind him with a heavy click that made Clara flinch.
"Mr. Vance... please," Clara whispered, her voice cracking. "I swear to God, I never intended to cause trouble here. I needed this job. My daughter—she’s just a baby, she doesn't know what she says—"
Julian walked slowly toward her, stopping three feet away. He tossed the thick manila folder onto the small kitchen table beside them.
"Open it, Clara," Julian said softly.
She stared at the folder as if it were a venomous snake. Slowly, trembling all over, she set the photo album down and reached out, flipping open the folder. Inside were her employment papers, her tax forms, her driver's license copy, and a resume listing three years of housekeeping work in suburban Ohio.
"Look at page four," Julian instructed.
Clara’s shaking fingers turned the page to reveal a certified birth certificate for Rosie Bennett, born in a private clinic in Geneva, Switzerland, four years ago.
"Geneva," Julian murmured, his eyes narrowing into cold obsidian daggers. "Interesting place for a struggling housekeeper from Ohio to give birth. Especially in a private medical facility owned by a shell corporation registered under the Vance Holdings umbrella."
Clara sucked in a sharp breath. The color drained entirely from her face, leaving her lips blue-gray.
"You didn't come to my agency by accident, did you, Clara?" Julian continued, leaning forward slightly, resting his palms on the table. "You spent six months trying to get into this specific house. You memorized my schedule. You knew exactly which cleaning supplies I preferred, which wing I rarely visited during the day, and how to position yourself so my security team would overlook your discrepancies."
"I... I needed work," Clara choked out, tears finally spilling over her lashes. "My husband—he told me to come here. He said it was the only way to keep us safe."
"Your husband," Julian repeated, a dark, humorless smirk touching his lips. "The man whose picture Rosie recognized in my mirror. Care to tell me his name, Clara? Or should I have Dmitri drag him out of wherever he’s hiding in this city?"
May you like
Clara shook her head violently, clutching her face in her hands. "I can't! If I tell you, they’ll kill him! They’ll kill all of us!"
Before Julian could press further, a sudden, violent crash echoed from the underground parking garage beneath the estate, followed by the muffled, unmistakable thud of an automated security gate being breached.
Related Stories
