Chapter 8 - the map in the lining
The storm outside grew heavier, coating the grand estate in a thick sheet of ice.
Inside the mansion’s private family parlor, Dominic, Sofia, and Emma sat in complete isolation. Dominic had posted ten of his most loyal personal guards around the perimeter, ordering no one else—not even his lieutenants—to enter.
Sofia held a cup of hot tea with both hands, the warmth slowly returning to her fingers. Emma was fast asleep on the plush sofa beside her, her small hand firmly wrapped around Daisy’s frayed arm.
"Where is the notebook, Sofia?" Dominic asked, sitting on the edge of the glass table opposite her. He had removed his suit jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt to reveal intricate dark tattoos winding up his forearms.
Sofia looked down at her tea. "It's hidden in our apartment. Under the floorboards."
"Frank went to your apartment twenty minutes ago," Dominic said calmly. "It was already tossed. The door was kicked in, the floorboards were ripped up, and the apartment was burned to the ground."
Sofia gasped, dropping her tea cup. It shattered on the marble floor. "My... my home..."
"Whoever took Charles went there next," Dominic said, reaching out to gently touch her knee to steady her panic. "They didn't find the notebook, did they?"
Sofia looked at him, her eyes wide with shock. "How did you know?"
"Because if they found it, they wouldn't still be monitoring this house," Dominic said, glancing toward the high windows. "Where is it really?"
Sofia reached over and picked up Emma’s rag doll, Daisy.
Dominic watched in stunned silence as Sofia used her thumbnail to pry open a small seam along the doll's back. She pulled out a tightly rolled strip of yellowed parchment and handed it to Dominic.
"Julian sowed it inside Daisy's stuffing the night before he died," Sofia whispered. "He told me never to take it out unless I was in absolute danger."
Dominic unrolled the parchment. It was a handcrafted map of the Moretti estate’s original subterranean wine cellar—a section built in the 1920s that had been sealed off for over thirty years.
Marked with a crimson 'X' in the center of the old cellar was a single room label: ARCHIVE 4.
Beneath the label was a notation in Julian’s distinct handwriting:
*Elena’s real journal is here. She found the Founders' contract.*
Dominic’s breath hitched. "Elena kept a second journal?"
"She didn't just keep a journal," Sofia said, looking Dominic directly in the eyes. "Julian told me Elena met with a woman the morning she died. A woman who gave her the key to Archive 4."
Dominic felt the blood drain from his face. "What woman?"
May you like
Sofia took a deep breath. "Your mother, Dominic. The woman who was supposed to have died twenty years ago."
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