THE CUPCAKE, THE BROTHER, AND THE GHOST IN THE FAMILY PORTRAIT / Chapter 5 / 8

Chapter 6 - THE GUEST AT THE GATESThe screech of the estate's main security alarm cut through the quiet night like a siren, bouncing off the brick walls of the carriage house and rattling the glass in the tiny second-floor window.

Luca stiffened, his arms still wrapped tightly around Isabella, who was trembling violently against his chest.

"What is that?" she whispered, her voice shaking with residual terror. "Luca... is it Nicholas? Did he come back?"

"Stay here," Luca said, gently lowering her onto the mattress. He grabbed his flashlight, his face hardening instantly into the cold, dangerous mask of a man whose territory had just been breached. He looked at me. "Hannah. Lock this door from the inside. Do not open it for anyone except me. Do you understand?"

"I understand," I said, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird.

Luca didn't waste another second. He stood up, vaulted down the wooden staircase in three long strides, and vanished into the darkness outside.

I locked the heavy wooden latch with a loud click, then turned back to Isabella. She was shivering on the mattress, hugging her knees to her chest, her dark eyes wide and wild with panic.

"Mrs. Moretti," I said softly, walking over and kneeling beside her on the floor. I shrugged off my heavy wool coat and draped it around her bony shoulders. "Let's get you warm. You're safe now. Your husband is going to take care of everything."

She looked at me, her gaze focusing slowly. "You're... you're Hannah. Sophie talks about you. She loves you so much."

"I love her too," I smiled gently, taking her cold, thin hands in mine. "She's a wonderful little girl. She bakes the best cupcakes in Chicago."

A fragile, tearful smile touched Isabella's lips. "She has my stubborn streak. I taught her how to bake on that little wooden stool before... before they locked me away."

"Who did this to you, Isabella?" I asked, keeping my voice low and steady. "Was it just Nicholas?"

Isabella shook her head slowly, her eyes filling with fresh tears. "Not just Nicholas. Vanessa helped him. They wanted the shipping empire, they wanted the real estate, and they knew Luca would never divorce me unless he thought I was dead. So they drugged me, faked the car crash using a junker car off the docks, and told everyone I burned to ash."

"Well, their game is over," I said, though my stomach churned with unease. "Luca knows everything. The police are going to—"

Bang.

The sound of a heavy car door slamming shut echoed from the direction of the main driveway.

Followed by raised voices.

I stood up and walked to the small, dusty window overlooking the back lawn. Through the glass, I could see the amber glow of the security lights near the front entrance. Several black SUVs had pulled right up to the double glass doors of the mansion, and men in dark suits were pouring out—not police officers, and not Luca's security detail.