Frank had worked for my father before me, the kind of security chief who noticed everything and said very little. He had been watching Vanessa and Colby with quiet, controlled suspicion for months, but he never approached me directly. Maybe he felt it wasn’t his place. Maybe he knew I wasn’t ready to hear it.

When he stepped into the study through the side entrance and saw Chloe step out from the hidden door, he didn’t faint or gasp. His eyes narrowed. He crossed himself once, then looked straight at me.

“What do you need me to do, sir?” he asked.

Just like that, we had a team.

The Collapse

The “collapse” happened on a Thursday.

Vanessa and Colby were in the dining room, pretending to argue over quarterly reports. Their raised voices floated down the hallway in a performance that sounded practiced and hollow.

I stepped out of my study, walked halfway down the corridor—and let my legs give out.

The floor rushed up to meet me. I heard the thud of my body, the clatter of the locket as it flew from my hand. A second later, Vanessa’s scream sliced through the house.

“Marcus! Marcus!”