Chapter 11 - The Scribbled Portrait
Diego stared at the crayon drawing in his hand, his breath catching in his throat. The third figure, violently scratched out with thick black marker, bore an unmistakable resemblance to Elena. Yet, beneath the aggressive scribbles, a child’s careful hand had drawn something else entirely—a small, glowing sun in the corner of the page, shining down upon the man and the little girl.
"Did you draw this, Polina?" Diego asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Polina nodded slowly, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her patterned handbag. "The lady in the white dress told me I wasn't allowed to draw happy pictures inside the big house," she murmured, her lower lip trembling slightly as old fears resurfaced. "She said if I smiled too much, the bad men would come back and take my locket."
Diego’s heart clenched with a fierce, protective ache. He folded the paper carefully and placed it inside his breast pocket, right next to the gold button. He reached out, pulling the little girl into a gentle, reassuring embrace.
"Nobody is ever going to take anything from you again," Diego promised, kissing the top of her head. "You are safe here. Forever."
Marcus appeared softly in the doorway, tapping his knuckles against the oak frame. He looked exhausted, the bandage on his temple stark against his weathered skin.
"Pardon the interruption, Mr. Sterling," Marcus said in a hushed tone. "Agent Vance left a secure dossier at the front gates. It was recovered from Julian’s briefcase before he was transferred to federal holding."
Diego stood up slowly, ensuring Polina was comfortable beneath the velvet quilt before walking over to the doorway. He took the manila folder from Marcus’s hands.
"What does it contain?" Diego asked.
"Financial ledgers, offshore routing slips, and... personal correspondence between Elena and a third party we haven't identified yet," Marcus replied grimly. "It seems Elena wasn't acting alone in her plot to hide the child. There’s someone else—someone inside the European banking syndicate who funded her entire operation from the shadows."
Diego opened the folder under the dim hallway light. Inside was a single photograph of a woman with striking blonde hair, wearing sunglasses and standing outside a private clinic in Geneva—the very clinic where Polina’s birth certificate had been registered four years ago.
The woman in the photograph wasn't Elena. But the sapphire ring on her left ring finger was identical to the family heirloom Diego’s mother had gifted to his late brother’s intended bride before the tragic fire.
"Aunt Genevieve," Diego breathed out, the name slipping past his lips like a forbidden curse.
"She was reported dead in the same fire that consumed your brother," Marcus reminded him, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"That’s what we were meant to believe," Diego said, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the Geneva timestamp on the photograph. "The fire wasn't an accident. It was an orchestrated disappearance. Genevieve faked her own death to protect the child from the board’s financial purges, leaving her hidden in Eastern Europe until the time was right."
"And Elena?" Marcus asked.
"Elena was just a pawn used to lure her back into the fold," Diego replied coldly, closing the folder with a sharp snap. "Genevieve is still alive, and she’s currently operating out of Switzerland with half of the Sterling family reserves."
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Before Marcus could respond, a sudden, sharp crash echoed from downstairs through the estate’s intercom system, followed by the sound of shattering glass in the ground-floor foyer.
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