Chapter 4 - The Hidden CameraBy the end of the first week, Nolan had established a strange, unspoken truce with Avery. She no longer screamed or threw objects; instead, she followed him around the sprawling penthouse like a suspicious, protective shadow.
It was Friday night. The penthouse was empty. Grant was stuck downtown finalizing the Meridian acquisition details, and Victoria was attending a high-profile charity gala.
Nolan sat at the massive marble kitchen island, reviewing security logs from the previous week. Grant had given him partial administrative access to the building’s internal surveillance system to hunt for the person leaking Avery’s medical files.
“What are you looking at?”
Avery’s voice broke the silence. She was wearing oversized pajamas, holding a half-empty glass of milk.
“Just paperwork, monkey,” Nolan said, minimizing a window containing server logs.
“Don’t call me monkey. Only Dad calls me that—sometimes.” She hopped onto the barstool next to him, peering at the glowing screen. “You’re looking at the cameras, aren’t you?”
Nolan hesitated, then decided honesty was better than evasion with a kid who was clearly too smart for her own good.
“I’m looking for someone who shouldn’t be where they aren’t supposed to be,” Nolan admitted.
Avery frowned, sliding closer. She pointed a small finger at a timestamp on the monitor—Tuesday at 11:42 PM.
“That’s Victoria’s office,” Avery pointed out.
Nolan zoomed in on the footage. Sure enough, the timestamp showed Victoria Vance entering Grant’s private study—a room supposed to be locked biometrically—using an override code. She spent four minutes inside, copying files onto a thumb drive before calmly walking out.
Nolan’s breath caught. Victoria was the leak.
“She goes in there a lot when Dad isn’t home,” Avery whispered, her voice dropping lower. “She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you, Avery. She’s just… ambitious,” Nolan said carefully.
“No. She told me once—she didn’t think I heard her—that if I wasn’t in the picture, Grant’s attention would be entirely focused on the company, and everything would be easier.”
Nolan’s blood ran cold. That wasn't just corporate espionage; that was a direct threat to a child’s well-being.
Suddenly, a sharp, metallic click echoed from the foyer downstairs.
Nolan froze.
The penthouse security system had just disarmed. But Grant wasn't due back for three hours, and Victoria was supposed to be at the gala across town.
“Avery,” Nolan whispered, his heart hammering against his ribs. He grabbed her arm, pulling her off the stool. “Get under the kitchen island. Right now. Do not make a sound.”
“Nolan, what’s—”
“Go!”
He shoved her into the recess of the island, pulling a heavy velvet drape down to conceal her.
Nolan slid open a drawer, grabbing a heavy silver candlestick holder—the only makeshift weapon available—and crept toward the arched doorway leading to the grand foyer.
Footsteps echoed softly on the marble staircase. Slow. Calculated. Familiar.
A shadow fell across the hallway wall.
Nolan held his breath, raising the heavy candlestick, ready to strike.
The figure stepped into the light.
It wasn’t Victoria. And it wasn’t Grant.
May you like
It was a man wearing a black tactical turtleneck, holding a suppressed pistol, and smiling a cold, dead smile.
“Well, well,” the intruder whispered, his voice dripping with venom. “The new babysitter. Looks like your shift just ended permanently.”
