Chapter 2 - The Secret Behind The Locked Door
The handle stopped moving.
For three seconds, nobody spoke.
Giulia's small hand was still wrapped around my arm.
The same arm that had signed million-dollar deals.
The same arm that had made powerful men step backward.
But at that moment, I wasn't thinking about power.
I was thinking about one question.
How did a five-year-old girl know someone had been entering my room?
I stared at the door.
"Who is outside?"
Giulia didn't answer.
Her eyes remained fixed on the handle.
Like she had seen this before.
That was what scared me the most.
Not the door.
Not the person behind it.
Her reaction.
She wasn't surprised.
She was waiting.
"Giulia."
My voice became sharper.
"Who comes into this room?"
The little girl slowly looked at me.
"My mommy told me never to talk about things I don't understand."
"Your mother knows?"
Her silence answered before her words did.
I felt anger rise inside me.
Elena knew something.
The woman who cleaned my house every morning.
The woman who walked past my door without asking questions.
The woman who had watched my condition get worse.
She knew something about what was happening inside my bedroom.
The handle moved again.
This time harder.
Someone was trying to open the door.
I reached toward the drawer beside my bed.
Not because I had a weapon.
Because I needed something solid.
Something that reminded me I was still in control.
But before I could move, the handle stopped.
The footsteps disappeared.
The hallway became silent.
Too silent.
I looked at Giulia.
"How long has this been happening?"
She hugged her teddy bear tighter.
"Three weeks."
My eyes narrowed.
"Three weeks?"
She nodded.
"The same time you started getting sick."
A cold feeling moved through my body.
Three weeks.
The exact time Camilla disappeared.
The exact time Aldo began preparing his succession documents.
The exact time my health started collapsing faster.
A coincidence.
That was what everyone would tell me.
But I had survived decades because I never ignored patterns.
"Tell me everything you know."
Giulia looked toward the door again.
Then she whispered.
"I saw a person come inside."
"When?"
"At night."
"How?"
She pointed.
"Through the door."
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Because the door was always locked.
"Nobody can enter this room."
She looked confused.
"But someone did."
I stared at her.
"Who?"
She lowered her voice.
"I don't know."
That answer should have disappointed me.
Instead, it terrified me.
Because if Giulia had seen a stranger, I could understand.
But if she didn't know who it was...
Then whoever entered my room was careful.
Very careful.
The door suddenly opened.
Not completely.
Just enough for someone to look inside.
I turned immediately.
Nobody was there.
Only the empty hallway.
I grabbed the edge of the bed and forced myself up.
Pain shot through my legs.
I hated that moment.
Not because of the pain.
Because someone else saw it.
Giulia saw me struggle.
But unlike everyone else, she didn't look away.
She stepped closer.
"Your legs hurt too?"
I froze.
Children weren't supposed to notice things adults tried so hard to hide.
"Go get your mother."
She nodded.
Then she stopped.
"Dario?"
I looked at her.
"What?"
She pointed toward the bedside table.
"The water."
My eyes moved.
The glass was still there.
The same glass she noticed earlier.
"What about it?"
She walked closer.
"My mommy said never drink something if you don't know who gave it to you."
A strange feeling entered my chest.
Elena's words.
Not Giulia's.
A mother teaching her child.
A warning.
A warning that suddenly felt very specific.
I picked up the glass.
I studied it carefully.
Nothing unusual.
No smell.
No color change.
Nothing.
But I had learned something in my life.
The most dangerous things were often the ones nobody noticed.
I placed the glass down.
"Where is your mother?"
Giulia looked nervous for the first time.
"Cleaning downstairs."
"Go get her."
She didn't move.
"She will be angry."
"Why?"
"Because she told me not to come here."
I stared at her.
"Why did you?"
The little girl looked at me.
And her answer stayed with me.
"Because nobody else was going to tell you."
For the first time in weeks, I felt something stronger than anger.
Fear.
Not fear of losing my empire.
Not fear of dying.
Fear that the people around me had been watching something happen while I was trapped inside my own body.
I pressed the call button beside my bed.
A few seconds later, Elena answered.
"Dario?"
Her voice sounded normal.
Too normal.
"Come to my room."
Silence.
Only for a second.
But I noticed.
"Right now?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
"I'll be there."
She arrived less than a minute later.
When she entered and saw Giulia standing beside me, her face changed.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
She already knew something was wrong.
"Giulia."
Her voice became quiet.
"What did you do?"
The little girl lowered her head.
"I told him."
Elena closed her eyes.
For a moment, she looked exhausted.
Not afraid of me.
Afraid of what would happen next.
I watched her carefully.
"Tell me what she told me."
Elena looked at the door.
Then at the glass of water.
Then back at me.
"I don't know what you mean."
Wrong answer.
A person who didn't know anything would ask questions.
Elena was avoiding them.
"You know exactly what I mean."
"Dario..."
"No."
My voice became colder.
"Everyone in this house has been lying to me."
She looked hurt.
"I never lied to you."
"You brought your daughter into my room."
Her expression changed.
"I didn't."
"She did."
Elena looked at Giulia.
Then she whispered:
"I'm sorry."
Those two words bothered me more than an excuse.
Because apologies were what people gave when they knew they had failed.
"Why are you sorry?"
Elena didn't answer.
I pushed.
"Why?"
Her eyes filled with fear.
"Because I should have told you sooner."
The room became silent.
I felt my heartbeat increase.
"Told me what?"
Elena looked at Giulia.
The little girl grabbed her mother's hand.
And Elena finally spoke.
"Someone has been coming into your room every night."
I didn't move.
I didn't blink.
Because hearing it from her changed everything.
Giulia wasn't imagining it.
She wasn't creating a child's fantasy.
It was real.
"Who?"
Elena looked away.
"I don't know."
"You just said someone was coming here."
"I saw the person."
My voice became sharper.
"Then tell me who it was."
She swallowed.
"I couldn't see the face."
"Why?"
"Because they always turned off the lights before entering."
I stared at her.
Someone had planned this.
Someone knew exactly how to move around my house.
Someone knew my routines.
Someone knew when I was asleep.
"How long?"
Elena hesitated.
"Since before you became sick."
That sentence hit harder than anything else.
Before I became sick.
Not after.
Before.
Someone wasn't taking advantage of my weakness.
Someone had created it.
I looked at the door.
The same door that had protected me for years.
The same door someone had been opening without my knowledge.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Elena looked down.
"Because the last person who tried to warn you disappeared."
My eyes narrowed.
"Who?"
She didn't answer.
"Elena."
Her face became pale.
"The person who warned you was Camilla."
The room went completely still.
Camilla.
The woman who vanished.
The woman everyone assumed betrayed me.
"She came to you?"
Elena nodded slowly.
"Three days before she left."
"What did she say?"
Elena looked toward Giulia.
The little girl covered her ears.
Like she already knew the answer.
Then Elena whispered:
"She told me if anything happened to her, I should make sure you never drank from the glass beside your bed."
I looked at the glass.
My breathing slowed.
My mind started connecting pieces.
Camilla's disappearance.
My illness.
Aldo's documents.
The nightly visits.
The water.
Everything.
But one question remained.
Why was Elena still here?
Why hadn't she run?
Before I could ask, my bedroom phone suddenly rang.
Nobody used that line.
Nobody.
I picked it up.
No one spoke.
Only breathing.
Then a voice finally came through.
A voice I recognized.
A voice that should not have been possible.
"Dario..."
My blood froze.
Because the person on the other end was someone who had disappeared three weeks ago.
Camilla.
And before I could say her name, she whispered:
"Don't trust Elena."
May you like
The call ended.
At that exact moment, the bedroom lights went out.
