His fiancée ordered the bleeding maid to continue scrubbing—until the billionaire followed the trail of blood on the marble floor and uncovered the truth hidden beneath his family’s vast fortune.

PART 3

On-screen, Silas Jr. struck his heel against the deck three times, paused, then twice.

Weston noticed. “Thirty-two.”

Wren turned toward him. “The old harbor channel.”

Castellan House had an old radio room whose transmitter still connected to every family vessel.

Bram tried the main control panel. “The lockdown has severed the network.”

“The radio room is mechanical,” Priya said. “It has a separate power line.”

“Where?”

“Behind the east pantry.”

Priya had supervised electricians during the kitchen renovation.

Weston handed the black ledger to Wren. “Do not let her near this.”

Two guards remained with Odalys while Bram led guests away from the shuttered doors. Priya guided Weston and Wren through a narrow corridor smelling of beeswax and old stone. Her hand left drops of blood on the floor despite the tie around it.

Weston saw them. “You need medical attention.”

“My brother has needed it for ten years.”

“Priya—”

“Do not ask me to wait somewhere safe.”

He looked as though he wanted to argue, then nodded once.

The radio room door had no visible handle. Priya removed a framed map and pulled the brass release behind it. Dust stirred as the door opened.

Weston powered the transmitter and entered channel thirty-two. Static filled the room. Then Silas Jr.’s voice broke through. “Weston?”

“I’m here.”

“Fuel charges are fake. Wires end under the deck. But there’s a real ignition device in the mansion’s cellar. Eighteen minutes.”

Wren gripped the edge of the desk.

“Where is Marcus?” Priya asked.

Static swallowed the first answer. Then a weak voice said, “Priya?”

No one had called her that in years — well, the diminutive she used with family, since the fire.

She bent over the transmitter. “Marcus, I’m here.”

“Listen. Everett wants the black book, but it is only half the record. The red ledger is still in the house.”

“Where?”

“Silas Sr. hid it where Delphine used to leave bread for the gardeners.”

Priya frowned. Delphine had been their grandmother. She had worked at Castellan House as a cook for nearly thirty years, but Priya had never heard anything about gardeners’ bread.

Marcus continued. “Do not trust any story Wren tells you about the land.”

The channel died.

From the main hall came a shout, followed by the crack of a gunshot.

Weston ran.

They returned to find one guard on the floor clutching his shoulder. The second guard had vanished. So had Odalys and the black ledger.

The front shutters remained down, but a section of paneling beside the staircase stood open.

“Old servants’ passage,” Priya said.

Bram stared at her. “That leads to the garage.”

Weston checked the wounded guard, then looked at the wall screen. The yacht feed now showed Everett holding the black ledger.

Odalys had reached him somehow.