For three days, the Morelle mansion had become a prison of whispers.
Reporters were still locked out. The guards' phones were confiscated. No one dared step outside without permission from Lord Damien Morelle himself. The man who ruled industries now ruled silence.
Inside the gold-trimmed walls, the grief was unbearable.
Lady Helena, once the perfect image of grace, hadn't eaten in two days. Her sobs echoed softly through the long halls, muffled behind the velvet curtains.
The maids tiptoed past her room as if afraid their footsteps might break her heart further.
Clarissa was their only child.
Their only light.
And she was gone.
Downstairs, in the vast living room, Ethan Cole sat at the edge of the sofa, his fingers knotted tightly together. He hadn't shaved in days, his eyes red from sleepless nights.
Across from him, Lord Damien watched with the quiet fury of a man used to control — and now facing something he couldn't control at all.
The Inspector stood near the fireplace, his tone professional but heavy.
> "We've confirmed, sir, that whoever entered the villa that night bypassed the system using a duplicate access key. The original codes weren't touched."
Lord Damien's eyes narrowed. "So someone duplicated the family key."
"Yes, sir."
Helena gasped softly from the doorway. "But only we — Damien, myself, Clarissa, and Ethan — had the codes. How could anyone else…?"
Ethan looked up, his voice breaking. "I swear, I didn't give that code to anyone. I would never—"
> "You wouldn't?" Damien's tone was sharp as glass. "Then explain how anyone entered that villa. My daughter trusted you. You had access to everything she had."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Because she was my wife."
> "Because she was my daughter," Damien snapped, slamming his hand on the table. "And because of you, she's gone!"
Helena flinched at the sound. "Damien, please—"
But her husband turned away, his voice low and trembling with rage.
> "If anyone in this house had a reason to take her — it was him. The man who never belonged here."
The words cut through Ethan like a blade.
He stood abruptly, his voice rough. "You think I married her for your money? For your name?"
Damien's stare was cold. "Didn't you?"
The silence that followed was thick and painful.
Amira Lane, standing quietly by the wall, could barely breathe. She had come to support the family, to find answers — but now, even she wasn't sure what to believe.
Clarissa had always been stubborn, impulsive, and spoiled — but she loved Ethan. Everyone saw it. Still, the thought wouldn't leave Amira's mind: how did anyone get inside that villa without Clarissa letting them in?
> "Lord Morelle," she said softly, stepping forward. "If the person used a duplicate key, maybe it wasn't Ethan. Maybe someone inside the system made a copy."
Damien's gaze flicked toward her. "And who would dare? Every technician, every guard, every driver here has been vetted by me personally."
Amira met his eyes. "Someone was paid. Someone you trust."
The Inspector cleared his throat. "She may be right, sir. Whoever planned this knew the security pattern — the timing, the code, even the weak spots in the villa's patrol. It wasn't random. It was personal."
Helena pressed her trembling hands together. "Oh God… this isn't a simple kidnapping, is it?"
No one answered.
Ethan turned away, walking to the tall window that overlooked the city. Outside, the morning light glowed against the glass, golden and calm — the complete opposite of the storm inside.
Behind him, Damien's voice fell to a whisper.
> "Until I know who betrayed this family, no one leaves this house. Not even you, Ethan."
Ethan turned sharply. "You can't keep me here."
> "Watch me," Damien said coldly. "Because whoever took my daughter… is close. Very close."
The Inspector gathered his files quietly and left the room.
Amira stood frozen, her thoughts spinning. She looked at Ethan — the pain in his eyes was raw, but was it guilt… or grief?
No one knew anymore.
The Morelle mansion had once been a home of power and pride.
Now, it was nothing but a house of secrets — and every secret whispered the same haunting question:
Who betrayed Clarissa?