Chapter 2: Hidden Behind Perfect Walls
Nathan spent the rest of the night inside his private office.
Not speaking.
Not drinking.
Watching.
Every security recording the house still possessed played across six large monitors.
Victoria had insisted months earlier that most interior cameras invaded the family's privacy.
Nathan had agreed.
What she never knew was that the mansion's original security architect had secretly installed redundant backup cameras inside smoke detectors, ventilation grilles, and decorative molding.
They had never stopped recording.
Hour after hour...
Nathan watched the truth.
Victoria forcing the children to eat dinner alone in the basement.
Emma crying after spilling milk.
Victoria throwing the plate against the wall inches from the little girl's face.
Ethan begging for food after missing dinner.
Victoria locking the steel door.
Twenty-three separate nights.
Forty-seven incidents of physical abuse.
More than one hundred recordings of psychological torture.
The timestamps stretched back nearly eleven months.
Nathan's hands remained perfectly still.
Only his eyes changed.
At sunrise, James quietly entered carrying coffee.
"I should've told you," the old butler whispered.
Nathan never looked away from the monitors.
"Why didn't you?"
"I was afraid she'd send me away. Then no one would be here to protect them."
Nathan finally faced him.
"You protected them?"
James nodded.
"I brought blankets."
His voice broke.
"I sneaked food downstairs whenever she wasn't watching."
Nathan walked over and placed a hand on the old man's shoulder.
"You did more than anyone else."
Then his expression hardened.
"Call my attorney."
"And Child Protective Services."
James blinked.
"Sir?"
Nathan looked toward the family portraits hanging on the office wall.
Every smiling photograph suddenly felt like evidence.
"No more private solutions."
"My wife committed crimes."
May you like
"And today..."
"The world finds out."
