CHAPTER 5 — The Gunshot Came from the Nursery
The darkness lasted only three seconds.
Three seconds.
But by the time the emergency generators restored power, the Ashford mansion no longer felt like a home.
It felt like a crime scene.
The crystal chandelier flickered back to life.
Someone was screaming.
Someone else was crying.
Security guards rushed through the east wing with weapons drawn.
"Nobody move!"
"Lock every entrance!"
"Check the cameras!"
Julian's first instinct wasn't to find the shooter.
It was to find Aurora.
"Aurora!"
He grabbed her shoulders with both hands, searching her face for blood.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, unable to speak.
"I'm fine..."
Julian pulled her into his arms.
"You don't leave my side."
"Not tonight."
"Not ever."
Aurora closed her eyes.
His heartbeat was steady against her cheek.
The same heartbeat that had comforted her since the day they met.
And all she could think was—
If he learns the truth... he'll never hold me like this again.
"Detective!"
A security officer's voice echoed from the hallway.
"We found the victim."
Everyone rushed toward the nursery.
One of the Ashford security guards lay on the hardwood floor, clutching his shoulder.
Blood soaked through his uniform.
Fortunately, the bullet had passed cleanly through the muscle.
He was alive.
Mercer knelt beside him.
"Did you see the shooter?"
The guard nodded weakly.
"For a second..."
"What did he look like?"
The man swallowed painfully.
"Tall."
"Gray hair."
"Wearing black leather gloves."
Julian exchanged a glance with Aurora.
Gray hair.
Nathaniel?
"No..." the guard whispered.
"There was something else..."
"What?"
"He wasn't running."
"He walked away..."
"As if he knew no one would stop him."
The mansion's surveillance team gathered in the control room.
Dozens of monitors displayed every hallway, staircase, and entrance.
Mercer leaned over the technician's shoulder.
"Show me the last ten minutes."
The footage began playing.
Everyone watched silently.
The east hallway.
Empty.
The nursery door.
Closed.
Then—
At exactly 8:42 p.m., every screen froze.
Static.
Black.
For forty-three seconds.
When the image returned...
The nursery door was open.
The silver pocket watch had appeared inside the crib.
The wounded guard was already lying on the floor.
The shooter...
Had vanished.
Mercer exhaled slowly.
"This wasn't random."
Julian crossed his arms.
"Someone disabled the entire security network."
The technician nodded nervously.
"Not just disabled."
"They accessed it remotely."
"Using administrator credentials."
Julian frowned.
"Those credentials belong only to me..."
The technician hesitated.
"...and to your father."
Silence settled over the room.
Aurora quietly slipped away.
She needed air.
The mansion suddenly felt too small.
Too crowded.
Too dangerous.
She walked onto the rain-soaked terrace overlooking Central Park.
The cool wind stung her face.
Her hand rested instinctively on her stomach.
"I don't know who you are," she whispered to the baby.
"I don't even know if I deserve to be your mother."
A voice answered from behind.
"You already are."
Aurora spun around.
Adrian stood beneath the stone archway.
Rain dripped from his dark coat.
His expression was unlike anything she had ever seen.
Not arrogant.
Not mocking.
Afraid.
"You shouldn't be out here," she said quietly.
"You shouldn't be in this house."
He looked toward the glowing windows.
"Neither should you."
Aurora's patience finally shattered.
"What do you want from me?"
"What happened that night?"
"Tell me!"
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"I can't."
"You won't."
"No..."
His voice cracked for the first time.
"I can't."
She stepped closer.
"You accused me in front of your family."
"You made Julian doubt me."
"If you know something..."
"...say it."
Adrian looked directly into her eyes.
"When you woke up in that hotel..."
"Were you wearing the same clothes?"
Aurora froze.
The question struck her like lightning.
She searched her memory.
The white silk robe...
No...
When she woke up...
She had been wearing the oversized hotel bathrobe.
Not the dress.
She had never questioned it.
She simply assumed she had changed before falling asleep.
Her breathing became uneven.
"I..."
"I don't remember."
Adrian nodded slowly.
"I was afraid you'd say that."
Before Aurora could ask another question, Adrian reached into his coat pocket.
He removed a small velvet pouch.
Inside was a delicate gold locket.
"I found this on the floor outside your hotel suite the next morning."
Aurora stared.
Recognition hit instantly.
"My mother's locket..."
She had searched for it everywhere after the wedding.
Inside the locket had always been a tiny photograph of her parents.
Now...
The photographs were gone.
Instead...
There was a folded microfilm strip no larger than a fingernail.
Aurora looked up in confusion.
"What is this?"
"I don't know."
"I never opened it."
"Why?"
Adrian answered quietly.
"Because if someone killed for it..."
"I didn't want to become the next target."
Footsteps echoed across the terrace.
Julian appeared.
His expression hardened the instant he saw them together.
"Aurora."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"What is my brother doing alone with my wife?"
Neither of them answered immediately.
Julian noticed the open locket in Aurora's hand.
"What is that?"
Aurora looked down.
"I..."
She didn't know how to explain.
Adrian finally spoke.
"She deserves answers."
Julian's eyes narrowed.
"So do I."
For several long seconds, the brothers stared at one another.
Years of loyalty.
Competition.
Resentment.
And buried family secrets hung between them.
Then a young FBI agent ran onto the terrace, breathless.
"Detective Mercer needs everyone downstairs."
"We found something inside Dr. Nathaniel Ashford's old office."
"What?"
The agent swallowed hard.
"A hidden room."
"No one knew it existed."
Julian's expression changed instantly.
Minutes later, they descended into the mansion's long-abandoned west wing.
Behind an antique bookshelf, investigators had uncovered a concealed steel door.
It had been hidden for twelve years.
Inside...
The room looked untouched.
Medical journals.
Encrypted hard drives.
Boxes of classified research.
And on the center desk...
A framed family photograph.
Julian picked it up.
His hands began to tremble.
It showed Nathaniel Ashford...
Standing beside Eleanor...
With Julian as a child.
But there was something impossible.
A little girl, no older than six, stood between them, smiling brightly.
Julian stared at the photograph in disbelief.
His voice barely rose above a whisper.
"I don't have a sister..."
Detective Mercer slowly turned the frame over.
Written on the back, in Nathaniel's unmistakable handwriting, were eight chilling words:
May you like
"Protect Evelyn. She is the real Ashford heir."
To Be Continued…
