Page 93 of The Hidden Heir

With a trembling hand, I fish my phone out of my pocket and call Valentina. Maybe this is a big mistake, a huge misunderstanding. Maybe she took Michael out with a couple of bodyguards, and they’re off on a morning walk or something. But no, the security crew would notify me. They know better than to keep me out of the loop after her morgue visit with Victor.

My call goes straight to voicemail.

Susie catches up, panting from her race up the stairs. “I checked the front gardens, too, Mr. Petrucci. The playroom, the library… They’re not in the house.”

“Yes, I gathered that much. Get security up here now.”

“Right away.”

She disappears, leaving me with a deluge of terrifying thoughts, each worse than the last, until it dawns on me to call Victor. He picks up at the second ring. He sounds groggy, and I realize I may be the one who woke him up.

“Luca, what is it?”

“Valentina, is she with you?”

“What? No. I’m at home. I haven’t seen her since that argument in your office the other day. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find her or Michael anywhere.”

I hang up, nowhere near patient enough to explain more. I’m seething, a tremor of rage and fear coming over me and twisting my mind into the darkest possibilities. By the time the security guards reach the room, I’m pacing it like a caged lion, trying to call Valentina over and over again, only to get her voicemail every time.

The more I try, the angrier I get.

“Sir,” Enzo says.

“How did she get out?” I ask, trying to keep myself from complete fury for a little while longer. Lashing out is unproductive. I need my men to find her.

Enzo and Gary look at each other, their brows furrowed. They both realize the trouble they’re all in, considering what transpired. In light of recent events, this is their worst-case scenario, and I need to see if I can count on them to make it right. Otherwise, I’ll need a new security team I can actually trust, because I will destroy the ones I currently have if Valentina and Michael are not found.

“Roy is already going through the security footage,” Enzo is quick to say. “We’ve been doing our rounds regularly since we came in at midnight. At the time, the day shift told us Valentina and Michael were still in the boy’s room. CCTV footage should also confirm.”

“What does that tell you?” I reply.

Gary takes a deep breath. “That they slipped out somewhere during our shift change. We would’ve seen or heard them otherwise.”

“Then there are the motion-activated cameras, the motion detectors—” Enzo tries to explain, but I explode. I can’t hold it in anymore.

“What it tells you is that my wife basically made you all out to be the biggest fools on this fucking planet! She waited until the shift change to slip past you, undetected, and she’s had enough time living here to know how to elude the fucking cameras and the motion sensors.”

“Sir, we didn’t expect—” Enzo tries again, but I cut him off once more.

“I need security footage from 23:45 hours to midnight. Every single fucking shot that shows my wife and my nephew. She couldn’t have slipped past all of them. If you were busy doing the shift change, then that was her only window of opportunity.”

“Yes, sir,” Enzo replies.

“We’re deeply sorry, sir, we had no…” Gary pauses and clears his throat. “It’s our responsibility, and we failed you.”

I close my eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of my nose to keep the migraine from spreading faster and deeper into my brain. Tension surges through my muscles, tightening the knot in my throat. I take a deep, rib-cracking breath, then let it out slowly.

“Valentina is an expert at slipping away,” I concede, having lashed out enough at the people I trust and need for the battles ahead. “This wouldn’t be her first time escaping. Her stepfather can tell you that much. Get me the footage and cast a wide net to find her.”

“We’ll go citywide, sir,” Enzo confirms.

“Get in touch with Raquel since she handles the family bank accounts. Have her put a trace on Valentina’s cards and freeze the accounts in the meantime. As soon as Valentina tries to pay for something, I want to know.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And tell Solomon to stay on the Mayfair issue. I still need those hourly reports, no matter what. The rest of you can handle Valentina and Michael,” I say.