Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO HAD BEEN RUNNING FOR EIGHT MONTHS
“There's someone inside this house who knows exactly where my daughter sleeps.”
Those were the first words I said when Julian brought us into the upstairs sitting room.
I had never been inside the mansion's private wing.
The furniture was elegant but comfortable, and a fire burned quietly beneath a white marble mantel.
Family photographs lined one shelf.
I noticed that almost all of them showed Julian as a boy, standing beside a smiling woman who looked like his mother.
There were no recent family portraits.
No wife.
No children.
Just a house enormous enough for fifty people and a man who apparently ate dinner alone.
Sophie sat beside me on the sofa, clutching her stuffed rabbit.
Mrs. Evelyn Grant, the older housekeeper who had worked for Julian for years, brought her a warm blanket.
“Would you like some milk, sweetheart?”
Sophie nodded.
“Can Mommy have some too?”
Mrs. Grant smiled gently.
“Of course.”
Julian watched the exchange from beside the fireplace.
Then he turned toward me.
“Elena, I need the truth. Not because you owe me an explanation for your private life. Because someone has made a threat against your daughter.”
I looked at the door.
“What if Daniel hears us?”
“We'll investigate how that photograph was taken,” Julian said. “But you decide what you want to tell me.”
I had spent years around a man who never allowed me to decide anything.
Hearing those words from Julian felt unfamiliar.
Almost frightening.
“My husband worked in financial management,” I began.
“Where?”
“Crescent Civic Partners. They handled accounts for investment firms, construction contractors, and nonprofit organizations.”
Julian's expression changed slightly.
“Crescent?”
I nodded.
“Daniel was charming when we first met. He brought flowers to my office. Remembered everything I said. Made me believe I was the most important person in the world.”
I looked down at my hands.
“I used to work in payroll reconciliation for a credit union. I loved numbers. Loved finding mistakes before they became problems.”
“What happened?”
“We got married. Then Sophie was born.”
My voice weakened.
“Daniel convinced me staying home would be better for our daughter. At first, it sounded reasonable. Then he stopped giving me access to our accounts.”
Julian listened without interrupting.
“He checked my phone. Read my messages. Decided which friends I could see. If I bought groceries he hadn't approved, he demanded receipts.”
Mrs. Grant quietly took Sophie into the adjoining playroom, leaving the door open so I could still see her.
I continued.
“Eventually, I discovered unusual financial statements in Daniel's office. Transfers involving organizations I'd never heard of. Some carried my name.”
“Your name?”
“Yes. I found documents with my signature.”
“Had you signed them?”
“No.”
Julian's eyes sharpened.
“What did Daniel say when you confronted him?”
I gave a hollow laugh.
“He said I didn't understand business. Then he told me that if I ever mentioned those accounts again, he'd make sure nobody believed I was fit to raise Sophie.”
My hands trembled.
“After that, things got worse.”
Julian glanced toward my sleeves but didn't ask to see my wrists.
For that small mercy, I was grateful.
“I tried leaving once,” I said. “A friend named Nora Bell helped me contact a domestic violence counselor.”
“What happened to Nora?”
“She was driving home when her brakes failed. She survived, but she spent weeks in the hospital.”
Julian became completely still.
“Did the police investigate?”
“They did. But nobody could prove Daniel was involved.”
I swallowed.
“A month later, Daniel supposedly died in a warehouse fire.”
“And you attended his funeral.”
“Yes. His attorney handled everything. The medical examiner's report identified him, and the coffin stayed closed.”
For the first time, I said aloud what I had been afraid to admit.
“I was relieved.”
Julian didn't judge me.
He simply waited.
“I hated myself for feeling that way,” I continued. “But when I stood beside his grave, all I could think was that Sophie might finally grow up without being afraid.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“I packed everything we owned and disappeared.”
Julian looked at me for a long moment.
“Then you came here.”
“Your employment advertisement said housing was available. I needed somewhere Daniel's family wouldn't think to look.”
“And Crane hired you?”
“Yes.”
Julian's expression hardened.
Peter Crane managed the household employees. He controlled our schedules, approved our days off, and handled most employment paperwork.
He also knew the apartment above the garage belonged to Sophie and me.
There was a quiet knock.
Owen entered carrying a tablet.
“We've reviewed the kitchen camera.”
Julian approached him.
“What did you find?”
“The photograph came from the internal security system. Someone captured it using an authorized account.”
“Which account?”
“We're examining the access records. Several senior staff members can view that feed.”
Julian looked toward the hallway.
“Restrict access immediately, preserve the logs, and don't alert anyone unnecessarily.”
Owen nodded.
Then Julian said something that surprised me.
“Elena, I'm going to ask the police to document tonight's threat. Tessa can explain your options, including protective orders. Nothing will be filed in your name without you knowing.”
I stared at him.
“You'd do that for an employee?”
His expression became unreadable.
“I should do that for anyone who needs help.”
Before I could answer, Sophie appeared in the doorway.
“Mommy?”
I opened my arms.
She climbed into my lap.
“Are we sleeping here?”
“Just tonight, baby.”
She considered that.
“Can Mister Julian eat breakfast with us?”
Julian looked surprised.
Then he smiled faintly.
“If your mommy agrees.”
For one beautiful second, Sophie giggled.
The sound made the room feel less frightening.
But the moment ended when Owen's radio crackled.
A guard's voice came through.
“Security to Mr. Brooks. We have an alarm at the service residence.”
Owen pressed his earpiece.
“Which residence?”
The response came immediately.
“The apartment above the garage.”
I stood so quickly that Sophie grabbed my arm.
Owen continued listening.
Then he looked directly at Julian.
“The apartment door has been opened.”
A pause.
“And, sir…”
May you like
His face tightened.
“Someone is still inside.”
