Chapter 5 - The Interrogation
By dawn, the rain had stopped, leaving the estate wrapped in a thick, cold autumn fog.
The damage to the upper service door had been repaired by a private contractor team that arrived at 4:00 AM in unmarked trucks. The bodies had been removed, the brass casings swept away, and the blood scrubbed from the driveway asphalt until no trace of the midnight assault remained.
To the outside world, the Petrov estate was merely a grand, quiet mansion on a hill in Lake Forest.
In the basement holding cells—a hidden section of the subterranean bunker that Maria had not been allowed to see—the two captured intruders sat strapped to heavy steel chairs. Their tactical helmets had been removed, revealing two bruised, tear-gas-stained faces.
Alexei stood in the shadows near the cell door, holding a cup of hot black tea. Dmitri stood beside him, holding a thick leather folder.
"They're mercenaries," Dmitri reported softly. "Former Russian special forces, operating out of a private security firm in Milwaukee. They were paid two hundred thousand dollars in cash to secure the basement and confirm your death."
Alexei took a sip of his tea, his throat still sore, but his voice returning slightly. "Who gave them the blueprint of the subterranean entrance?"
Dmitri hesitated. He opened the folder and placed a black-and-white photograph on the table in front of Alexei.
It was an aerial blueprint of the estate, signed and stamped by the master architectural firm ten years ago.
In the bottom right corner, under the seal of the head surveyor, was a name: Antonio Moretti.
Alexei’s eyes narrowed. "Moretti?"
"Antonio Moretti ran the construction company that built the subterranean bunker in 2016," Dmitri said. "He’s also the brother-in-law of Senator Thomas Blake—the man who has been trying to block your lakefront commercial permits for three months."
Alexei set his teacup down on the metal table with a soft click.
"So it wasn't just Viktor Sokolov," Alexei reasoned coldly. "Sokolov provided the assassin and the choking capsule. But Senator Blake provided the intel and the political cover. They wanted to take my life, collapse my logistics company, and buy up my lakefront holdings at auction for pennies on the dollar."
"A joint venture," Dmitri growled. "A mob boss and a state senator."
"A common alliance in Illinois," Alexei said flatly.
At that moment, the heavy door of the holding cell floor opened.
Nora, a younger security guard, stepped in, looking nervous. "Boss... Mrs. Alvarez is upstairs. She says she needs to talk to you immediately."
Alexei frowned. "Did something happen to Sophie?"
"No, sir," Nora said. "The child is fine. But... Mrs. Alvarez says she recognized one of the names on the security radio feeds."
Alexei walked out of the holding cell immediately, ascending the concrete stairs to the main house.
He found Maria standing in the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee with both hands, her eyes wide and bloodshot from lack of sleep. Sophie was sitting on a high stool at the kitchen island, happily eating a bowl of oatmeal provided by the backup kitchen staff.
"Maria," Alexei said, stepping into the warm light of the kitchen. "Nora said you heard a name."
Maria looked around nervously, ensuring the kitchen staff were out of earshot before leaning in close to Alexei.
"When Dmitri was speaking on the radio earlier," Maria whispered, her voice shaking, "he mentioned a man named Antonio Moretti."
Alexei’s brow furrowed. "Yes. What about him?"
Maria swallowed hard, tears welling in her eyes again. "Antonio Moretti... he's my ex-husband's cousin."
Alexei froze. His eyes locked onto Maria with an intensity that made her shrink back.
"Explain," Alexei commanded quietly.
"Three years ago," Maria wept softly, "before I came to work here... my husband left me because he was deep in gambling debt to Moretti's men. Moretti was the one who told me to apply for the cleaning job at your estate. He said... he said it was a good job that paid well for a single mother."
She looked at Alexei with pure, unadulterated terror.
"I swear on my daughter's life, Mr. Petrov! I didn't know! I thought he was just being nice to his cousin's ex-wife! I never gave him blueprints, I never talked about your house, I swear to God!"
Alexei stood completely still in the kitchen, processing the revelation.
The chain of events suddenly clicked into place with horrifying perfection.
Moretti hadn't just built the house ten years ago; he had placed Maria in the estate nineteen months ago as a unwitting sleeper piece—a person whose background would check out as entirely harmless, but whose presence could be used to gather small, innocent details about Alexei’s daily routine over time.
They had used a desperate, innocent single mother as an unsuspecting pawn in a multi-million-dollar assassination plot.
And that pawn’s four-year-old daughter had just shattered their entire plan.
Alexei walked over to the kitchen island, picked up a napkin, and gently wiped a drop of oatmeal from Sophie’s chin.
Sophie looked up at him, giving him a bright, messy smile.
"You have nice socks today, Mr. Alexei," Sophie noticed, looking down at his dark wool socks.
"Thank you, Sophie," Alexei whispered gently.
He turned back to Maria, his voice dropping into a tone of quiet, absolute protection.
"You didn't betray me, Maria," Alexei said softly. "They used you. But they made one fatal mistake."
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"What?" Maria sobbed quietly.
"They didn't account for your daughter," Alexei said. "And now, I am going to end this."
