Chapter 14

CH 14

POV: Alexander Hartwell

The Suspicion

Alexander Hartwell did not believe in instincts without evidence.

But he also did not ignore them.

From his office window earlier that afternoon, he had seen Julian in the east garden.

He had seen the maid.

He had seen the way Julian looked at her.

Not casually.

Not politely.

Intensely.

Now, in the private lounge adjoining his study, Julian sat unusually quiet, a glass of untouched whiskey resting near his hand.

“You’re distracted,” Alexander said calmly, closing the financial report in front of him.

Julian blinked, as if pulled back from somewhere far away.

“I’m fine.”

Alexander’s gaze remained steady.

“You’ve said that three times in the last hour.”

Silence settled between them.

The fireplace crackled softly.

Then Julian exhaled.

“It’s the new maid,” he said finally.

Alexander’s eyes sharpened almost imperceptibly.

“What about her?”

Julian hesitated, as if debating whether speaking would make it real.

“She has… something.”

“Something?” Alexander repeated evenly.

“A butterfly hair clip.”

Alexander waited.

“And?”

Julian swallowed.

“It looks like the one we gave her.”

The air shifted.

“Our sister,” Julian clarified quietly.

Alexander’s posture did not change, but something in his gaze hardened.

“That clip was unique,” Julian continued. “I carved my initials into the back when I was fifteen.”

Alexander’s voice lowered.

“Did you check?”

Julian nodded once.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“It’s there.”

The silence that followed was no longer casual.

It was calculated.

Alexander rose slowly from his seat and walked toward the window overlooking the estate grounds.

“The DNA test was verified twice,” he said evenly.

“I know.”

“It confirmed Sophia.”

“I know.”

“Then what exactly are you implying?”

Julian ran a hand through his hair, frustration threading his voice.

“I’m not implying anything. It’s probably coincidence. The maid said she was adopted. Found as a child.”

Alexander’s mind moved quickly.

“Found where?”

“She didn’t know.”

That answer lingered.

Alexander turned back toward his brother.

The original report had been solid.

The lab certified.

Independent verification completed.

No irregularities.

Yet—

He had never liked how perfectly everything aligned.

The sudden discovery.

The seamless confirmation.

The emotional timing.

“And you believe a hair clip is stronger evidence than DNA?” Alexander asked.

Julian shook his head quickly.

“No. Of course not.”

But doubt had already taken root.

Alexander saw it.

And that was enough.

Upstairs, Sophia stood near the partially open study door, heart pounding.

She hadn’t intended to listen.

But she had heard enough.

Hair clip.

Initials.

Adopted.

Her chest tightened.

This was escalating faster than she expected.

She retreated quietly to her room and locked the door.

Her hands trembled as she dialed Victoria.

“He’s suspicious,” she whispered.

“Which one?” Victoria asked calmly.

“Both. Julian noticed the clip. Alexander is asking questions.”

A brief pause.

Then Victoria’s tone cooled.

“Then the clip disappears.”

“And if that’s not enough?”

“Then we remove the girl.”

Sophia froze.

“Remove?”

“From the house,” Victoria corrected smoothly. “Don’t panic. Fear makes you sloppy.”

Sophia pressed her fingers against her temple.

“This wasn’t part of the plan.”

“It is now.”

The line went silent.

Later that night, Alexander sat alone in his office reviewing the original case file from seventeen years ago.

Photographs.

Security logs.

Statements from panicked staff.

The child had been wearing a light blue dress that day.

He flipped to one of the final images taken during a birthday gathering weeks before the disappearance.

And there—

Barely visible near her curls—

A butterfly glinting in her hair.

Alexander leaned back slowly.

Coincidence existed.

But patterns repeated for a reason.

The DNA test confirmed Sophia.

Science was precise.

Numbers rarely lied.

But people—

People could be coached.

Prepared.

Manipulated.

His mind returned to Sophia’s performance at the board meeting.

Confident.

Measured.

Strategic.

Too strategic for someone who had supposedly grown up far from power.

Alexander closed the file gently.

Tomorrow, he would begin asking questions.

Quietly.

Very quietly.

Because if something was wrong—

He would uncover it without alerting anyone.

In the staff quarters, Elena sat on the edge of her narrow bed.

She removed the butterfly clip carefully and placed it beside her pillow.

The metal caught the dim light from the bedside lamp.

She traced the chipped wing absently.

It was the only object she owned that felt… permanent.

She had no memory of where it came from.

Only that it had always been hers.

She turned off the light and lay down.

Unaware that the small silver butterfly had just become more than an accessory.

It was now evidence.

And evidence, inside the Hartwell estate—

Was dangerous.