Chapter 3
The private study smelled of aged leather, pipe tobacco, and old paper, a traditional sanctuary that offered Julian no comfort today. He paced slowly across the Persian rug, holding Leo close to his chest with one arm while his free hand reached out to trace the mahogany edge of his executive desk. The infant had fallen into a deep, innocent sleep, completely unaware that his father’s world was fracturing around him. Julian’s mind raced through months of memories, trying to reconcile the woman he had married with the cold, calculating figure standing across the foyer just moments ago.
Elena had always been ambitious, driven by a need for perfection that Julian once mistook for high standards. But lately, perfection had curdled into obsession. When Leo was born six months ago, Julian had noticed a strange shift in Elena’s demeanor—a subtle resentment disguised as maternal duty, moments where she held the child too tightly or stared at him with an unsettling detachment when she thought no one was watching. Julian stopped pacing and looked down at his sleeping son. A wave of profound guilt washed over him. He had been too busy chasing corporate expansion and international mergers, leaving his family vulnerable behind closed doors.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. The heavy oak door creaked open, revealing Clara. She slipped into the room quietly, closing the door behind her with a barely audible click. She stood near the bookshelf, keeping a respectful distance, her hands clasped tightly in front of her burgundy uniform.
"Mr. Vance," Clara began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't be in here, but I had to come. Mrs. Vance will be furious if she finds me."
"Speak, Clara," Julian said, his voice flat and controlled. He motioned toward a leather armchair, but she shook her head, remaining standing.
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"I have kept a journal," Clara confessed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Not out of malice, but out of fear. From the very second master Leo came home from the hospital, things happened. Medications going missing from the nursery cabinet. Cold baths given when the baby had a fever. She blames me for everything, sir. She told the agency I was incompetent last month, but I begged to stay because I knew Leo wouldn't survive a week alone with her."
Julian’s hand clenched into a fist. The gold watch dug into his wrist. "Bring me that journal, Clara. Now."
