Chapter 2 - The Eleven Missing Minutes
Alina did not sleep in the guest suite.
She sat upright on the edge of the bed with Mia curled beside her, one small hand wrapped around the blue dinosaur’s twin.
The first dinosaur was still in Vincent’s pocket.
Alina had watched him put it there.
That detail bothered her.
So did the armed guard outside the hallway.
So did the fact that someone had stood close enough to her staff apartment to photograph her daughter sleeping.
At six fifteen in the morning, she opened the door.
The guard straightened.
“I need coffee.”
“I can have someone bring it.”
“I can walk to the kitchen.”
He hesitated.
Alina folded her arms.
“Am I protected or imprisoned?”
The man looked genuinely uncomfortable.
Vincent’s voice came from the far end of the hall.
“She can walk.”
He approached in a dark shirt with no jacket, looking as though he had slept less than she had.
The guard stepped aside.
Alina said, “Good morning.”
Vincent glanced at the clock.
“That is optimistic.”
She almost smiled.
They walked downstairs.
The house was quiet except for the soft movement of staff setting breakfast.
Vincent poured coffee himself.
That surprised her.
“You don’t have someone do that?”
“I know how coffee works.”
“Congratulations.”
His mouth moved slightly.
Then he became serious.
“Dominic traced the photograph.”
“To who?”
“No one yet. The sender used a temporary number.”
“Then what did he trace?”
“The angle.”
Alina waited.
“The photo was taken from the maintenance roof above the east carriage building.”
Her stomach tightened.
“That roof is inside the estate.”
“Yes.”
“Who can get up there?”
“Staff with utility access. Security. Family.”
There was that word again.
Family.
Vincent slid a mug toward her.
“Frank is reviewing badge logs.”
Alina stared into the coffee.
“Frank said Mia was dreaming.”
“Yes.”
“You trust him?”
Vincent took too long.
“I trusted him yesterday morning.”
That answer was enough.
Mia wandered into the kitchen in borrowed pajamas, hair wild.
She climbed onto a chair and looked at Vincent.
“Dino?”
He reached into his pocket and placed the blue plastic dinosaur on the table.
Mia smiled.
“Good.”
Then she looked at Alina.
“Pancake?”
Alina closed her eyes.
The world could be collapsing and three-year-olds still expected breakfast.
Rosa from the kitchen brought pancakes.
Mia ate.
Vincent’s phone buzzed.
Dominic.
He answered.
“What?”
His face changed.
“Where?”
He ended the call.
Alina set down her mug.
“What happened?”
“Someone accessed the garage camera system manually during the storm.”
“Who?”
“The login belonged to my father.”
Alina frowned.
“I thought your father was dead.”
“Eight years.”
The kitchen went silent.
Vincent’s father, Lorenzo Marchetti, had built most of the family’s logistics empire before dying of a stroke.
His master administrator account should have been closed years ago.
It had not been.
“Who kept it active?” Alina asked.
Vincent looked toward the doorway.
Adrian stood there.
He had entered without her hearing him.
“Legacy systems,” Adrian said. “We keep old credentials for archived equipment.”
Vincent’s gaze hardened.
“You knew?”
“I knew the account existed.”
“Who can use it?”
“IT security.”
“Names.”
Adrian exhaled.
“Vincent, not in front of staff.”
Alina stood.
“Then I’ll leave.”
Vincent stopped her.
“No.”
Adrian stared at him.
Vincent said, “Her child is the witness. She stays.”
The sentence changed something in Alina.
Not because he called her important.
Because he refused to make the truth private simply to protect family pride.
Adrian looked furious.
“The board is already asking why the consortium meeting was canceled.”
“Tell them.”
“You want me to tell investors a toddler stopped the CEO from entering a tracked vehicle?”
“Yes.”
Adrian laughed.
Vincent did not.
“Tell them exactly that.”
Mia looked up from her pancake.
“I saved Mr. Vincent.”
Adrian rubbed his forehead.
Vincent said, “Apparently.”
Mia beamed.
Dominic entered with Frank behind him.
Frank looked pale.
Dominic placed a badge report on the counter.
“The maintenance roof was accessed at one fifty-eight the night the photo was taken.”
Alina’s pulse jumped.
“By who?”
Frank swallowed.
“Master vehicle services.”
Dominic continued.
“That badge is assigned to Frank.”
Everyone looked at him.
Frank raised both hands.
“I was home.”
“You used the badge at six the next morning,” Dominic said.
“Yes.”
“So you had it.”
“Yes.”
“Then how did it open the roof at one fifty-eight?”
Frank’s face reddened.
“I don’t know.”
Adrian snapped, “This is going nowhere.”
Dominic ignored him.
“The garage outage started sixteen minutes later.”
Frank said, “Someone cloned the badge.”
Vincent asked, “Possible?”
Dominic nodded.
“Possible. Not simple.”
Alina watched Frank.
He was sweating.
Not proof.
But fear.
Mia stopped chewing.
She stared at him.
Then she whispered, “Squeaky shoe.”
Alina turned.
“What?”
Mia pointed at Frank’s feet.
He wore polished black work shoes.
“His shoe talks.”
Frank looked confused.
Mia slid off the chair and walked two steps.
“Squeak. Squeak.”
Alina’s heart began beating faster.
The night Mia stood at the window, she had said something half-asleep.
She remembered now.
Funny shoes.
Alina had thought the child meant rain boots.
Frank laughed weakly.
“A lot of shoes squeak.”
Mia shook her head.
“You.”
No one spoke.
Frank stepped backward.
Dominic blocked the doorway.
Frank’s voice rose.
“This is ridiculous. You are taking testimony from a toddler?”
Vincent answered calmly.
“No.”
Frank looked relieved for half a second.
Vincent continued.
“I am watching how you react to it.”
Frank went still.
Then Adrian said, “Enough.”
Too fast.
Vincent’s eyes moved to his brother.
Adrian looked away.
Alina noticed that too.
Frank took a breath.
“I want a lawyer.”
Dominic nodded.
“Good idea.”
No one touched him.
Police were called.
Frank sat in the library until they arrived.
The household staff whispered in corridors.
Mia asked for another pancake.
At ten thirty, Frank’s attorney appeared.
At eleven twelve, Frank gave police permission to search his locker.
Inside they found a second estate badge.
Not his.
Adrian’s.
Adrian stared at it.
“That is not mine.”
Dominic checked his records.
The badge number matched.
Adrian’s face hardened.
“Someone is framing me.”
Vincent looked at his brother.
“Maybe.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“You believe him? The chauffeur?”
“I believe evidence before blood.”
Adrian flinched.
The words hurt.
Alina could see it.
Frank suddenly laughed from the library doorway.
Everybody turned.
His lawyer grabbed his arm.
Frank said, “You people still don’t understand.”
Vincent’s face went still.
Frank looked directly at Adrian.
Then at Alina.
“The tracker wasn’t supposed to hurt Vincent.”
Dominic said, “Stop talking.”
Frank ignored him.
“It was supposed to prove where he went.”
Vincent stepped forward.
“Prove to who?”
Frank smiled.
“The board.”
Adrian’s face emptied.
And Alina understood the tracker might not have been placed for an ambush.
May you like
It might have been placed for something much more ordinary.
Power.
