The mansion was quiet, cloaked in the stillness of the night. Marco sat in his home office, a glass of whiskey beside him, papers spread out on his desk.
The only sound in the room was the faint scratch of his pen against paper and the rhythmic ticking of the antique clock on the wall. He had just finished putting Matteo to bed, despite the little boy’s protests.
“I wanna stay with Nanny,” Matteo had whined, clutching Ella’s dress. Marco’s jaw had tightened, but he had forced a smile.
“It’s late, Matteo,” he had said. “You need sleep.”
Matteo had finally relented, but not before whispering something to Ella before climbing into bed. Marco hadn’t heard what.
And that had bothered him more than it should. Is this how Carmen felt? Now, he tried to push all of it aside, focusing on the work in front of him.
Shipments were still going missing. His empire was still unstable. And there was still one nagging thought that refused to leave his mind.
Carmen.
Her words from earlier that week echoed in his head:
“I found something on Ella.”
Marco scoffed, rubbing his temple. He shouldn’t even be thinking about her. She was a traitor. A liar. And yet…
Why couldn’t he shake this uneasy feeling?
Then—
Everything went dark.
Marco’s pen froze mid-stroke as his office was suddenly plunged into darkness.
His computer screen blipped off, the ceiling lights flickered once, then died.
The house was silent. Too silent. A power outage?
Marco’s brows furrowed. That didn’t make sense.
His estate had backup generators—the power should have kicked back on immediately. But it hadn’t.
A flicker of unease crawled up his spine.
A red light blinked in the darkness. Marco’s stomach tightened.
The glow was small, faint, barely noticeable from across the room. But it was there.
His eyes locked onto it. A single red dot, coming from the plant in the corner.
Marco stood slowly, his chair scraping against the floor. His pulse quickened, his mind racing.
That wasn’t normal. His office was private, secured.
No one but him should have access to it. His feet moved on instinct, his body tense, ready for anything.
The red light blinked again.
Marco reached the plant stand, his fingers brushing against the leaves—
Then he saw it. Tucked between the ceramic pot and the soil.
A tiny, black device.
His breath hitched. A camera. Someone had been watching him.