Chapter 5 - The Ledger of Blood
Roman turned without another word, sprinting back through the iron hatch, across the narrow catwalk, and into the dark brick passages.
Eva had to run to keep up with his long, furious strides, her sneakers slapping hard against the damp concrete floor. They ignored the ladder, ignored the silent copper listening horns, and raced straight back toward the broken plaster panel in the west corridor.
When they burst through the linen cabinet back into the mansion, the house was eerily silent.
The emergency lockdown lights cast a faint, red glow across the marble floors. Daniel Knox was standing near the grand staircase, his weapon drawn, looking wildly around the empty foyer.
"Boss!" Daniel yelled, rushing toward them. "The security monitors just went dark across the whole north quadrant! Someone bypassed the main mainframe from inside the study!"
"Where is my sister?" Roman demanded, his voice echoing like thunder off the high coffered ceilings.
"She... she was in her room ten minutes ago," Daniel stammered, visibly shaken. "Mrs. Delaney went up to check on her when the lockdown started—"
"Get out of my way," Roman growled, shoving past his chief of security and bounding up the wide marble stairs toward his private wing.
Eva followed, her chest burning from the sprint, but she refused to stop. The pieces of the house were shifting, exposing the ugly, rotting skeleton beneath the grand facade, and she needed to see the end of it.
They reached the heavy walnut doors of Roman’s private study.
The doors were ajar. A single line of yellow light spilled out onto the dark hallway carpet.
Roman kicked the door wide open.
Isabella Bellaro sat calmly behind her brother's massive mahogany desk. She wore a simple black cashmere sweater and dark trousers, her long black hair tied back in a neat ponytail. She looked strikingly like Roman—the same sharp cheekbones, the same dark, intense eyes—but her expression held none of his turmoil. She looked serene, almost cold.
In her hands, she held an old, leather-bound journal with yellowed edges and a brass lock that had been freshly forced open with a steel letter opener resting on the desk.
Standing beside her, holding a silver tray with a porcelain teapot, was Mrs. Delaney, the head housekeeper.
Mrs. Delaney’s hands were not shaking. Her aged, lined face held no fear. She looked at Roman with a cold, maternal disappointment.
"Put it down, Isabella," Roman said, raising his Sig Sauer, pointing the barrel directly at his sister's chest.
Isabella didn't flinch. She didn't even look at the gun. She slowly turned a page of the ledger.
"Did you know Father kept records of our bloodlines, Roman?" Isabella asked softly, her voice carrying the smooth, cultured tone of an Ivy League graduate. "He didn't trust anyone. Not his lieutenants, not his lawyers... and certainly not his wife."
She looked up, her dark eyes locking onto Roman’s.
"You aren't his son, Roman."
The sentence hung in the air of the grand room, suffocating every sound, freezing the very air in their lungs.
Roman’s hand remained steady on the weapon, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "That is a pathetic attempt at a distraction."
"It's the truth," Isabella said softly, sliding the book across the desk toward him. "Look at the dates. Look at the DNA records from the private clinic in Zurich dated 1989. Father discovered Mother was having an affair with Sebastian Crane—his loyal, trusted attorney."
Roman’s chest heaved. "Sebastian?"
"Father found out three weeks before he 'died' in that panic room," Isabella continued, resting her elbows on the desk. "He didn't die of a heart attack, Roman. He locked himself in that room to change his will, to cut you and Mother out of the estate entirely, and leave everything to the family trust under my name."
She pointed a delicate finger toward Mrs. Delaney.
"Mrs. Delaney was my mother’s sister," Isabella revealed quietly. "She knew the truth. She helped Sebastian track the secondary passages grandfather built. When Father went into that room, Sebastian didn't run to save him. Sebastian tried to force him to sign the original ledger. But Father suffered a stroke during the argument."
"And Sebastian?" Roman asked, his voice barely audible. "Why was Sebastian trapped in there?"
"Because I trapped him," Isabella said calmly. "Ten years ago, when I was twelve, I overheard them talking behind the parlor wall. I heard Sebastian and Mother planning to let Father rot in that room so you could inherit the throne and they could control you from behind the curtain. So I used Grandfather’s passkey. I locked the biometric override from the inside of the passage. I let Sebastian stay in there with Father’s body."
Eva gasped. A twelve-year-old girl, sitting in the dark brick walls, watching through a pinhole lens as her father died and her mother's lover starved beside him.
"Then why is Sebastian alive tonight?" Eva asked, stepping forward from behind Roman.
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Isabella finally looked at Eva, her eyes assessing the maid with a cold, distant curiosity.
"Because three days ago, Sebastian found the secondary access panel behind the panic room," Isabella said. "He didn't starve ten years ago, maid. He’s been living inside the lower foundation rooms, fed by Mrs. Delaney, waiting for the statute of limitations on Father’s estate to clear so they could execute the final fraud."
