Chapter 6 - Shadows from the Past
By the following week, the estate had settled into an unfamiliar, peaceful rhythm.
The haunting silence that used to greet me when I walked through the front doors was gone. Now, muffled laughter from the conservatory, the faint, cheerful plink of piano keys, or the sound of Elise singing off-key nursery rhymes drifted down the halls.
For the first time in four months, I found myself looking forward to coming home.
It was a dangerous feeling. In my line of work, emotional attachment was a vulnerability—a leverage point for enemies looking to exploit a weakness. And my heart was dangerously close to becoming an open book.
On a rainy Thursday afternoon, I was reviewing audit reports in my study when a sharp knock sounded at the door.
Walter entered, holding a silver tray with a single white envelope resting in the center.
“Mr. Caruso, this was dropped off at the front security gate by a courier who refused to leave an identification badge,” Walter reported, his tone grave.
I frowned, setting my pen down. “Did you run it through the electronic scanner?”
“Of course, sir. No chemical residue, no explosives. But the envelope is addressed by hand, specifically to you.”
“Leave it.”
Walter bowed slightly and exited the room, closing the heavy oak door behind him.
I leaned forward, using a silver letter opener to slice open the heavy cardstock envelope. Inside was a single 4x6 photograph and a handwritten note.
I picked up the photograph first.
My breath hitched in my throat.
It was a picture of Elise walking through downtown Chicago’s Millennium Park, pushing Maisie and Rosie in their double stroller. It had been taken from a distance with a telephoto lens—she hadn't noticed the camera, but the angle was invasive, deliberate, and menacing.
I flipped the photograph over. Scrawled across the back in jagged black ink were the words:
Careful who you let into your house, Dante. Not everyone is who they pretend to be. Check her financial records.
I dropped the photograph onto the desk as if it were burning my skin.
My mind raced with cold, calculated fury. Someone was watching us. Someone was trying to drive a wedge between my family and the only person who had brought light back into our lives.
Without hesitation, I picked up my encrypted desk phone and punched a direct extension.
“Marco,” I barked the moment my head of security answered.
“Boss?”
“I want every security camera within a three-block radius of Millennium Park pulled for Tuesday afternoon. Find out who took a telephoto lens to my nanny.”
“On it, Mr. Caruso. What about the source?”
“Trace the courier company immediately. I want a name before nightfall.”
I slammed the phone down into its cradle.
Whoever sent that note thought they could play psychological games with Dante Caruso. They thought they could plant seeds of doubt and watch my fortress collapse from within.
May you like
They didn't realize that I was done living in paranoia.
If someone had an issue with Elise Navarro, they were going to have to answer to me directly.
