Chapter 2 - THE CHILD’S DRAWING
The camera zoomed in on the screen.
There it was.
The thick, red manila folder.
Slipping quietly into the deep pocket of my black maid’s apron.
The dining room was so quiet I could hear the crystal chandeliers chiming faintly in the air conditioning.
Forty of the most powerful people in the city were staring at me.
But I wasn't looking at them.
I was looking at Adrian Lorenzo.
He stood at the head of the long table, the tablet in his hand, his dark eyes slowly rising from the screen to meet mine.
Marcus Vale, the man who had terrified me for two days, suddenly broke the silence.
"She stole it!" Marcus shouted, pointing a shaking finger at me. "You see that, Mr. Lorenzo? Your own maid is a thief. She’s the rat. She’s been spying on us!"
Marcus moved fast.
Too fast.
He lunged toward me, his hand reaching inside his tailored suit jacket.
But he forgot who he was working for.
Adrian didn't even raise his voice. He simply raised his hand.
In less than a second, two massive security guards slammed Marcus into the marble floor.
The sound of his face hitting the stone echoed like a gunshot.
"Keep him down," Adrian commanded.
His voice was terrifyingly calm.
He stepped away from the table.
He walked past the stunned billionaires, the politicians, the silent wives in their diamond necklaces.
He walked until he was standing exactly two feet away from me.
Up close, Adrian Lorenzo was an intimidating man. Broad shoulders. A sharp jawline with a faint scar near his left ear. But his eyes were what froze people in place.
They missed nothing.
"Natalie," he said softly.
"Yes, sir," I whispered, my voice trembling.
"Do you have the file?"
I didn't lie.
I didn't hesitate.
Because I knew that a man like Adrian Lorenzo only forgave the truth.
I reached into the deep pocket of my uniform apron.
My right foot throbbed in agony, fresh blood seeping into the white bandage, but I ignored it.
I pulled out the red folder.
It was wrinkled. Bent at the corners. But the seal was still intact.
I held it out with a shaking hand.
Adrian took it.
He didn't open it immediately. He looked at the heavy wax seal, proving it hadn't been tampered with.
"You took a beating for this," Adrian said, his gaze dropping to my bleeding foot. "You hid an injury. You risked your job. Why didn't you just bring it to me?"
"Because Marcus controlled the cameras," I said quietly. "If I walked toward your office, he would have intercepted me. Tonight was the only night he couldn't leave your side. The only night I could get close enough."
Adrian stared at me.
A maid. A nobody. Earning minimum wage to scrub his floors.
And I had outsmarted his million-dollar security chief.
Adrian finally opened the red folder.
He flipped through the first three pages.
His expression didn't change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
"These are bank transfers," Adrian said. His voice was hollow. "Routing numbers pointing to the Moretti family."
The Morettis.
His biggest rivals.
Marcus had been selling out the Lorenzo empire from the inside.
"You're a dead man, Marcus," Adrian whispered, looking down at the traitor pinned to the floor.
But Marcus laughed.
It was a wet, desperate sound.
"You think that file is the whole story, Adrian?" Marcus spat blood onto the marble. "You think I just wanted your money? Look at the last page."
Adrian flipped to the back of the folder.
I watched his face.
For the first time since I had started working there, I saw Adrian Lorenzo look confused.
"It's blank," Adrian said. "The cipher key is missing."
"Exactly," Marcus sneered. "The account numbers are useless without the cipher. And I didn't keep it in the folder."
Answer One: Marcus wasn't acting alone, and he had hidden the key to his betrayal to protect himself.
Open Two: Where was the cipher key, and who else was involved?
"Tell me where it is," Adrian said, stepping closer to Marcus.
"Or what?" Marcus smiled. "You kill me? I have a dead-man's switch, Adrian. If I don't check in by midnight, the Morettis don't just get your money."
Marcus looked up, his eyes burning with a sick, twisted joy.
"They get Leo."
The entire dining room gasped.
My heart stopped.
Leo.
Adrian's seven-year-old son.
The little boy who hadn't spoken a single word since his mother passed away four years ago. The boy I secretly snuck extra chocolate chip cookies to when the nanny wasn't looking.
Adrian's composure finally broke.
He grabbed Marcus by the collar, hauling him halfway off the floor, his fist raised.
"Where is the cipher?" Adrian roared.
"Stop!" I yelled.
I didn't know where the courage came from. But I couldn't let him kill the only man who knew the truth.
Adrian froze, turning his furious eyes on me.
"I have it," I whispered.
Adrian dropped Marcus. "What?"
I reached into my apron pocket again.
"When Marcus dropped the folder in the hallway," I said, my voice shaking, "another paper fell out. He didn't notice. I hid it."
I pulled out a folded piece of paper.
But it wasn't a corporate document.
I unfolded it and handed it to Adrian.
It was a child's drawing.
Done in heavy, dark crayons.
A drawing of a large black house. A little boy standing in a window. And a tall, shadowy monster standing at the front door.
But across the roof of the drawn house, a series of numbers was scribbled in blue ink.
The cipher.
Adrian stared at the drawing.
His hands began to shake.
Not because of the numbers.
Because of the drawing itself.
"This is Leo's," Adrian choked out. "My son drew this."
"Yes," I said softly.
"Why would Marcus have my son's drawing?"
Before I could answer, the heavy oak doors to the dining room slowly pushed open.
Everyone turned.
Standing in the doorway, wearing his little silk pajamas, was seven-year-old Leo.
He was clutching his favorite stuffed bear. His large, dark eyes scanned the terrifying room.
"Leo," Adrian breathed, stepping toward his son. "Go back upstairs, buddy. It's not safe down here."
But Leo didn't look at his father.
He walked directly toward me.
He stopped in front of me, looking down at my bleeding foot.
Then, the boy who hadn't spoken in four years reached out his tiny hand.
He grabbed my apron.
And he pointed a single finger across the dining room table.
Directly at the man sitting in the VIP chair next to Adrian's empty seat.
"Monster," Leo whispered.
Adrian turned slowly.
Following his son's pointing finger.
May you like
Right toward Julian Lorenzo.
His own younger brother.
