Chapter 4 - Shadows in the East Wing
The east wing of the Petrov estate was normally reserved for visiting dignitaries, high-ranking syndicate partners, or family members who rarely visited.
It felt less like a bedroom and more like a luxury hotel suite designed for a paranoid monarch. Bulletproof glass lined the tall windows overlooking the manicured Lake Forest lawns. Heavy velvet drapes blocked out the afternoon sun, and a private security keypad glowed softly beside the double mahogany doors.
Maria paced across the plush Persian rug, wringing her hands, while Sophie sat cross-legged on the king-sized velvet bed, happily performing mock checkups on her stuffed unicorn.
"Mommy, why are we in the big room?" Sophie asked, brandishing the plastic syringe from her dollar-store kit. "Can we keep the fluffy pillows?"
"We're here because... because Mr. Petrov wants us to be close by while he figures some things out," Maria managed to say, keeping her voice light, though her stomach was tied in knots.
She walked to the window, pulling back the velvet drape just an inch. Down below, black SUVs were idling near the service entrance. Men in dark suits were moving purposefully across the gravel drive, their coats pulled tight against the crisp autumn wind.
The illusion of normalcy that Maria had maintained for nineteen months—cleaning rooms, folding towels, pretending the Petrov estate was just a very wealthy, slightly eccentric household—had shattered into a million jagged pieces.
Someone inside this house tried to kill Alexei Petrov.
And she and Sophie had walked right into the epicenter of a civil war.
A sharp, double knock echoed at the heavy door.
Maria froze. She walked over cautiously and pressed the intercom button near the frame.
"Yes?"
"It’s Dmitri," the deep voice crackled through the speaker. "The boss sent me. He wants you and the child in his private office immediately."
"Dmitri, look, we don't want to get involved in whatever syndicate business—"
"Mrs. Alvarez," Dmitri interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The boss doesn't ask twice. And trust me, right now, the safest place in the state of Illinois is within ten feet of Alexei Petrov."
Five minutes later, Maria and Sophie stood inside the lower-level security annex of the estate.
It didn't look like a home office. It looked like a command center. Massive computer monitors lined the walls, displaying live feeds of every gate, hallway, and perimeter fence across the sprawling fifty-acre property.
At the center of the room sat Alexei.
He had changed into a fresh charcoal suit, his shirt collar crisp, his hair slightly damp from a shower. He looked entirely recovered, but the aura of cold danger surrounding him had multiplied tenfold.
On the metal desk in front of him lay a silver tray, a broken porcelain plate, and a small, clear evidence bag containing crushed pistachio nuts.
"Sit," Alexei commanded, gesturing to two leather armchairs positioned opposite his desk.
Maria hesitated, then pulled Sophie close and sat down, keeping her posture rigid. "You wanted to see us."
"I did," Alexei said, resting his elbows on the desk, locking his dark eyes onto hers. "Dmitri has spent the last two hours tearing through kitchen logs, security camera footage, and staff backgrounds. Do you want to know what we found?"
Maria swallowed hard. "Who did it?"
"Nobody," Alexei replied flatly.
Maria blinked. "What do you mean, nobody? The poison didn't walk onto the plate by itself."
"No, it didn't," Alexei agreed, a dark shadow crossing his features. "The camera angles in the main kitchen blind spot show that the tray was prepared by our head chef, Marco. But Marco has been with my family for twelve years. He has three children in private school paid for by my foundation. He has zero motive to kill me."
"Then how—"
"Someone bypassed the kitchen security logs between 8:15 AM and 8:30 AM," Alexei continued smoothly. "While Marco stepped away to check a delivery, someone slipped into the pantry, took a pinch of crushed pistachios from the baking shelf, and dusted it over the biscotti."
He leaned forward, his gaze piercing straight through Maria’s defenses.
"And according to the electronic keycard logs, only three people in this entire estate possess Level-4 clearance to enter the kitchen pantry during those morning hours."
Maria’s breath caught in her throat. She felt the sudden, crushing weight of the room’s air pressure drop.
"Who?" she whispered.
"Dmitri," Alexei said, ticking them off on his fingers. "My head of security. My chief financial officer, Viktor. And..."
He paused, letting the silence stretch like a wire about to snap.
May you like
"...and my newly hired senior housekeeper, who has free access to all domestic wings."
Maria leaped out of her chair, her face flushing with hot, furious indignation. "Are you out of your mind? You think I tried to poison you? After I let my daughter crawl onto your chest and save your life while your armed guards stood around panicking?!"
