Chapter 4 - THE SILVER KEY
The kitchen fell dead silent.
The only sound was the soft, tinkling melody of the vintage music box, playing a lullaby for a family that had been built on lies.
I stared at the birth certificate in Adrian's trembling hand.
Father: Elias DeLuca.
"No," I whispered, stepping back until my spine hit the cold stainless steel of the refrigerator. "That's impossible. My father was a mechanic. He died when I was little."
"Your mother lied to you," Silas groaned from the floor, clutching his shattered knee. Blood was pooling on the pristine white tiles. "Elias DeLuca had an affair with the housekeeper. When she got pregnant, she ran. She tried to hide you."
My head was spinning. The pain in my left hand was completely eclipsed by the shock radiating through my chest.
I wasn't a stranger hired off the street.
I was a DeLuca.
Answer One: The intruder didn't just want the music box for money. They wanted the secret it contained.
Open Two: If Silas knew I was a DeLuca, why did he arrange for me to be hired as a housekeeper? What did he want from me?
Adrian looked at me, his dark eyes searching my face. Really looking at me for the first time.
"You have his eyes," Adrian murmured, almost to himself. "My father's eyes. I should have seen it."
"Why did you bring her here, Silas?" Adrian demanded, his voice hardening as he looked down at the bleeding man. "Why orchestrate her hiring?"
Silas coughed, a wet, rattling sound.
"Because of the silver key," Silas sneered, pointing a trembling finger at the object in the music box. "That key opens the offshore ledger. The shadow accounts. Fifty million dollars in untraceable funds."
Silas wiped sweat from his pale forehead.
"But Elias was a paranoid old bastard. He set the vault with a biometric lock. A DNA lock. Only a direct blood descendant can open it."
"I am his son," Adrian said coldly. "I could open it."
"You tried!" Silas laughed, though it clearly caused him agony. "Five years ago, you tried. But the machine rejected you, Adrian. Didn't it?"
Adrian froze.
"What are you talking about?" Adrian asked.
"Elias didn't trust you," Silas smiled, his teeth stained with blood. "He knew you were too soft. He knew you married a woman who wanted peace. Elias wanted the old ways. So he coded the vault to his true heir. The one he kept hidden."
Silas looked right at me.
"You, Emily. He coded it to you. That's why I needed you in the house. I needed to get your blood, your fingerprints, to bypass the vault."
That was why I was grabbed in the hallway.
They weren't just threatening me to stay quiet about Sofia.
They were trying to get my biometric data.
"You hurt her," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly calm. He handed Sofia to me. "Emily. Take her to the library. Lock the door. Do not come out."
"Adrian, wait—" I started.
"Go!" he roared, a sudden, explosive command that made both me and Sofia flinch.
I grabbed Sofia's hand and ran.
We sprinted down the long, carpeted hallways, the portraits of dead DeLuca ancestors staring down at me. My ancestors. The thought made my stomach churn.
We reached the massive oak doors of the library. I pushed them open, shoved Sofia inside, and slammed them shut, throwing the heavy brass deadbolt.
The library was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the tall, arched windows. Walls of ancient books smelled of leather and dust.
"Emily?" Sofia whispered, clinging to my apron. "Are you really my aunt?"
I knelt down in the dark, pulling the terrified little girl into a tight hug.
"I don't know, Sofia," I said honestly, tears finally slipping down my cheeks. "I just know that I will never let anyone hurt you. We are family, no matter what a piece of paper says."
She buried her face in my shoulder, crying quietly.
Suddenly, the lights in the library flickered.
Then, they went completely out.
The entire mansion was plunged into absolute darkness.
The backup generators didn't kick on. The security hum died. The house was completely dead.
Someone had cut the main power line.
"Stay behind the desk," I told Sofia, my maternal instincts overriding my fear. "Hide underneath it. Make yourself small."
She scurried under the heavy mahogany desk.
I backed up into the shadows near the door, my heart pounding so loudly I thought it would give away my position.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps.
They stopped right outside the library door.
I held my breath.
Then, a voice spoke from the other side of the thick wood.
It wasn't Marcus. It wasn't Silas.
It was a voice I hadn't heard in twenty years. A voice that belonged to a ghost.
"Little Emmy," the deep voice said softly. "Are you in there?"
I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop the scream.
No one had called me Emmy since I was ten years old.
No one except my older brother, Thomas.
May you like
The brother who had supposedly drowned in the river when I was in high school.
"Open the door, Emmy," Thomas said from the darkness. "I came back for you."
