Chapter 8 - The Locket
Claire woke when Luca locked the bedroom door.
He crossed the room and pulled the curtains shut.
“What are you doing?”
“Give me your locket.”
She touched the silver chain around her neck.
“What?”
“Please.”
His face frightened her.
Claire unclasped it.
Luca carried it to the desk.
The locket was oval, engraved with tiny leaves. Inside were photographs of Claire and Thomas.
Luca examined the hinge.
“It does not open any farther,” Claire said.
He took a letter opener and pressed it beneath the photograph of Thomas.
A hidden metal plate lifted.
Beneath it was a strip of microfilm.
Claire stared.
“What is that?”
“I do not know.”
“You clearly know something.”
Luca put the microfilm on the desk.
“Your mother is downstairs with my father.”
“At two in the morning?”
“I found them in a hidden room.”
Claire laughed nervously.
“A hidden room?”
“My father had a gun.”
The color left her face.
“We need to call the police.”
“Elise says she did.”
“Who is Elise?”
“The housekeeper.”
Claire grabbed her phone.
There was no signal.
Luca checked his.
Nothing.
“The villa system blocks communication during security alerts,” he said.
“That is legal?”
“In this family, legality is usually considered a flexible concept.”
Claire stepped away from him.
“What are you not telling me?”
Luca looked at the microfilm.
“My parents knew your father.”
“That is impossible.”
“I heard his voice on a recording.”
Claire stared.
“My father died when I was eight.”
“He recorded something before he died.”
“What?”
“That he hid evidence inside your locket.”
Claire sank onto the bed.
“No.”
Luca knelt before her.
“Claire.”
“No. My father was a journalist. He wrote about local politics and business. He did not hide secret evidence in jewelry.”
“He investigated my family.”
She pushed him away.
“Your family?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
“I do not understand all of it.”
“Then explain what you do understand.”
Luca told her about the black rose token.
Étienne.
The hidden room.
The recording.
The ledger.
With each sentence, Claire’s expression changed from disbelief to fear.
When he finished, she looked at the engagement ring on her hand.
“Did you know who I was when we met?”
“No.”
“Did your parents?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“You told your father on the phone that I could not know something yet.”
Luca froze.
Claire’s eyes filled with tears.
“My mother heard you.”
“What?”
“She told me this afternoon.”
“What did you say to him?”
Luca thought back.
Then he understood.
“The trust.”
“What trust?”
“My grandfather left money to Étienne and me. After Étienne’s death, my share changed. Father called because he wanted me to sign documents before dinner. I told him you could not know yet because I planned to use the money to buy us a house as a wedding gift.”
Claire stared at him.
“You should have told me.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Secrets are not surprises when everyone but me is involved.”
A knock sounded.
“Claire,” Hélène called. “Open the door.”
Luca stood.
“Do not.”
Hélène knocked again.
“There has been an intruder.”
Claire slipped the microfilm back into the locket and closed it.
Luca shook his head.
“She may know.”
“She is still your mother.”
“That does not make her safe.”
The door handle moved.
“Luca,” Hélène said. “Your father has been attacked.”
Claire looked at him.
Then came Philippe’s voice.
“Son, open the door.”
Luca moved toward it.
Claire grabbed his arm.
“No.”
Philippe continued.
“Margaret has deceived all of us. Her real name is Marguerite Laurent.”
Claire released Luca.
“What did he say?”
Hélène’s voice came through the door.
“Your mother is a wanted woman.”
Claire opened the door before Luca could stop her.
Hélène stood in the corridor with Philippe beside her.
Two security guards waited behind them.
Philippe’s lip was bleeding.
Hélène held an old newspaper clipping.
She thrust it toward Claire.
The headline declared Marguerite Laurent dead.
“This is your mother,” Hélène said. “She entered our home under a false identity.”
Claire read the clipping.
The photograph showed her mother at twenty-four.
There was no doubt.
Claire looked down the corridor.
Margaret stood at the far end with Elise.
“Mum?”
Margaret stepped forward.
“Claire, listen to me.”
“Is your name Marguerite Laurent?”
“Yes.”
“Were you born in France?”
“Yes.”
“Did you lie to me my entire life?”
Margaret’s face broke.
“Yes.”
Claire closed her eyes.
The security guards moved toward Margaret.
Luca stepped between them.
“No one touches her.”
Philippe’s voice became authoritative.
“She threatened me with a gun.”
“The gun was yours,” Margaret said.
Philippe pointed at Elise.
“And this woman fabricated a recording.”
Elise held up her phone.
“The recording has already been uploaded.”
“To where?” Hélène demanded.
Elise smiled.
“To three people who will release it if anything happens to Margaret or Claire.”
Philippe’s confidence wavered.
Claire turned to Margaret.
“Who are you?”
Margaret’s answer came quietly.
“A woman who was afraid the truth would get you killed.”
“And my father?”
“He died protecting us.”
“From them?”
Margaret looked at Philippe and Hélène.
“Yes.”
Claire touched the locket.
Hélène saw the movement.
May you like
Her eyes fixed on the silver chain.
For the first time that night, Hélène looked genuinely terrified.
