Chapter 2 - The Whispering Shadows
The grand banquet hall was cleared within five minutes. Victor’s chief security lieutenant, Marcus, along with eight heavily armed guards in dark suits, escorted the terrified guests out into the night, locking the heavy iron gates of the Bellandi estate from the inside.
Inside Victor’s private, dark-paneled study, the atmosphere was suffocating. Heavy velvet drapes blocked out the moonlight, while a single brass desk lamp illuminated the dark mahogany furniture.
Celeste sat pinned in a heavy leather armchair, two armed guards standing motionless behind her. Her silver dress was rumpled, her fair face pale, but her eyes burned with frantic, manipulative calculation.
Across the room, eight-year-old Ellie sat on a plush sofa, fast asleep under a warm wool blanket. Victor stood by the high glass windows, his midnight-black tuxedo jacket discarded, his crisp white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing his broad, battle-hardened chest. He held the DNA report in his broad hand, his knuckles white.
"Speak, Celeste," Victor said, his voice flat and terrifyingly calm. "Before I let Marcus handle the interrogation."
Celeste swallowed hard, her manicured fingers digging into the leather arms of her chair. "Isabella didn't just give birth to Ellie eight years ago, Victor. You know that. My sister carried twins in that private clinic in Chicago."
Victor turned around slowly, his towering frame casting a long, intimidating shadow across the Persian rug. "Isabella died in childbirth eight years ago. The medical board in Chicago confirmed there was only one surviving infant—Ellie."
"The medical board was paid three million dollars to lie to you!" Celeste spat, her voice trembling with desperate malice. "Isabella gave birth to a boy first! A boy who carries the primary bloodline deed to the Bellandi international trust! Catherine and I took the boy forty minutes after delivery!"
Victor walked slowly toward her chair, his polished leather shoes making no sound against the rug. "Where is the boy, Celeste?"
Celeste looked down at the floor, a subtle, dark smile returning to her lips. "If I tell you that, Victor, you'll eliminate me. But as long as I hold the private intake code for the boy's facility, you cannot claim your full inheritance under the syndicate charter. The Council of Nine will strip your title by midnight tomorrow if both heirs aren't presented."
Victor didn't answer. He picked up his secure satellite phone from the desk, dialing a private number that hadn't been used in eight years.
He set the phone on speaker.
The line rang twice before a raspy, elderly male voice answered through the speaker: "Mr. Bellandi. I wondered when you would uncover the second file."
Victor’s jaw set like iron. "Dr. Vance. You were the chief obstetrician at Saint Jude’s Memorial the night my wife passed away."
"I was," the doctor replied softly through the static. "And if you want to know where your son was taken, look inside the sealed ledger locked in the private chapel at Saint Jude’s. But hurry, Victor. Celeste’s associates hired a recovery team an hour ago."
The phone line went dead with a sharp, abrupt click.
Victor lowered the phone, looking down at Celeste. "Marcus. Lock Celeste in the east wing holding cell. Strip her of all communication devices."
As the guards dragged Celeste out of the study, Ellie stirred softly on the sofa. She opened her wide, dark eyes, looking at Victor with sweet, tired innocence.
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"Daddy?" Ellie whispered. "Do I have a brother?"
Victor walked over, dropping to one knee beside the sofa. He gently smoothed down her soft hair, his rough, battle-hardened face softening into pure warmth. "Yes, sweetheart. And Daddy is going to bring him home."
