The mansion had changed.
Sara noticed it the moment she returned from the hospital. The walls were repaired. The gardens were blooming. The guards still stood at their posts, vigilant and silent. But something was different. Something she couldn't name.
It was in the way the servants looked at her. The way their eyes followed her through the halls. The way conversations stopped when she entered a room.
Adrian noticed too.
"You're imagining things," he said one evening, watching her from the doorway of their bedroom. Sara stood at the window, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes fixed on the gardens below.
"I'm not." Her voice was quiet but certain. "Something's wrong, Adrian. I can feel it."
He crossed the room and stood behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders. "The staff has been through a lot. Dimitri's attack. Your father and Marta being hurt. They're scared. That's all."
Sara leaned back against him. "Maybe."
But she didn't believe it.
The next morning, Sara found Marta in the kitchen.
The older woman was moving slowly, still recovering from her injuries, but her eyes were sharp as ever. She was organizing the pantry, her movements precise and deliberate.
"Marta." Sara closed the door behind her. "I need to ask you something."
Marta didn't turn around. "What is it, child?"
"The staff. Some of them have been acting strange. Watching me. Whispering. Do you know anything about that?"
Marta's hands paused on the jars she was arranging. For a long moment, she didn't speak.
Then she turned.
Her face was pale. Her eyes were shadowed.
"I was going to tell Mr. Volkov tomorrow," she said quietly. "When I was sure."
Sara's heart began to pound. "Tell him what?"
Marta crossed the kitchen and locked the door. She moved to the window, checked that no one was outside, then returned to Sara.
"The night Dimitri attacked the mansion," Marta whispered, "someone let him in."
Sara's blood ran cold. "What?"
"The gates. They were locked. The guards were in position. But someone disabled the security system for exactly seven minutes. Long enough for Dimitri's men to enter. Long enough to reach the house before anyone noticed."
Sara sank into a chair. Her legs wouldn't hold her.
"How do you know this?"
Marta's jaw tightened. "Because I found the logs. Three days ago, when I was going through the security footage from that night. The system was accessed remotely. Someone with high-level clearance turned it off."
"High-level clearance," Sara repeated slowly. "Who has that?"
Marta met her eyes. "Only three people. Mr. Volkov. His brother. And the head of security."
"Head of security?" Sara frowned. "But he's been with Adrian for years. He was here during the attack. He helped fight off Dimitri's men."
"I know." Marta's voice was heavy. "Which is why I wanted to be sure before I said anything. But the evidence is there, Sara. Someone in this house betrayed us. And they're still here."
Sara didn't tell Adrian.
Not yet. Not until she had proof. Not until she knew for certain.
Instead, she began to watch.
The head of security was a man named Gregor. He had worked for Adrian for over a decade. He was trusted. Loyal. Or so everyone believed.
Sara watched him from windows, from doorways, from the shadows. She watched the way he moved through the mansion. The way he spoke to the guards. The way his eyes lingered on the security panel near the front gate.
She watched for three days.
On the third night, she saw something.
It was past midnight. Sara couldn't sleep—she never could, these days. She stood at her bedroom window, staring out at the darkened gardens.
And she saw Gregor.
He was walking toward the gate, his phone pressed to his ear. His steps were quick, deliberate. He didn't look back. Didn't pause. Just walked.
Sara moved.
She slipped out of the room, down the hallway, down the stairs. She moved through the mansion like a ghost, her bare feet silent on the marble floors.
By the time she reached the gardens, Gregor was gone.
But the gate was open.
Sara's heart stopped.
She ran. Past the fountain. Past the rose bushes. Through the gate and onto the dark street beyond.
A car waited there, its engine running, its lights off.
Gregor stood beside it, talking to someone inside.
Sara crept closer. Closer. Close enough to hear.
"—she's back now. The mother. Changes everything."
A voice from inside the car—a woman's voice. "Adrian's mother?"
"Yes. She's at the mansion. Recovering. Talking. She knows things. About the family. About the money. About Dimitri."
The woman laughed—a cold, familiar sound that made Sara's skin crawl.
"Then she needs to be dealt with. Before she talks to the wrong people."
Gregor nodded. "I'll take care of it. Tomorrow night. When the guards change shifts."
"Good." The woman's voice hardened. "And the wife? The Bennett girl?"
Sara's blood turned to ice.
"What about her?"
"She's become a problem. Adrian listens to her. Trusts her. That makes her dangerous."
Gregor hesitated. "What do you want me to do?"
A pause. Then the woman spoke, her voice dripping with poison.
"Whatever it takes."
Sara stumbled backward. Her foot caught on a stone. She fell.
The sound was small—barely a whisper in the night.
But Gregor heard it.
He spun around, his eyes scanning the darkness. Sara pressed herself against the wall of the gate, holding her breath, praying.
"Someone's there," Gregor hissed.
The car door opened.
Sara didn't wait. She ran.
She ran through the gate, through the gardens, through the mansion doors. She ran up the stairs, down the hallway, into her room. She slammed the door, locked it, pressed her back against the wood.
Her heart was a drum in her chest.
Her hands were shaking.
Tomorrow night, Gregor had said. Take care of it.
The mother.
The wife.
Whatever it takes.
Adrian found her like that—huddled against the door, her face white, her eyes wild.
"Sara? What happened?"
She grabbed his hands, pulling him close. "Gregor. It's Gregor. He's the mole. He let Dimitri in. And he's planning something. Tomorrow night. Your mother. He's going to hurt her."
Adrian's face went from concern to ice. "What are you talking about?"
Sara told him everything. The security logs. The gate. The car. The woman's voice. Gregor's words.
When she finished, Adrian was silent.
Then he stood.
"Stay here," he said. "Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone."
"Adrian—"
"Sara." His voice was hard, unyielding. "Stay here."
He was gone before she could argue.
Sara didn't stay.
She waited ten minutes. Twenty. Then she slipped out of her room and followed the sound of voices.
They were in the security office—Adrian, Gregor, and four guards. The door was open. Sara pressed herself against the wall outside and listened.
"You've worked for me for twelve years," Adrian was saying. His voice was calm. Too calm. "Twelve years, Gregor. I trusted you with my life. With my family's lives."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Gregor's voice was steady, but Sara could hear the edge of fear beneath it. "I've been loyal. Always."
"Then explain this."
A pause. Sara imagined Adrian showing him the security logs.
"I don't know what that is. Someone must have hacked the system. Framed me."
"You were seen tonight. At the gate. Talking to someone in a black car."
Gregor's silence was deafening.
Adrian's voice dropped lower. "I'm going to ask you once. Who was in that car?"
More silence.
Then Gregor spoke, and his voice had changed. The fear was gone. In its place was something cold. Resigned.
"You think you're so smart, Mr. Volkov. You think you've won. But you have no idea what's coming for you. What's already here."
Sara heard a sound—metal scraping against metal. A weapon.
She moved without thinking.
She burst through the door just as Gregor raised a gun toward Adrian.
"ADRIAN!"
The shot rang out.
Sara threw herself forward. But Adrian was faster. He grabbed Sara, spun her behind him, and lunged at Gregor in the same motion.
The bullet missed them both. It buried itself in the wall behind Sara's head.
The guards moved. Three of them pinned Gregor to the ground. The gun clattered across the floor.
Adrian stood over him, breathing hard, his hands shaking.
"Who is she?" he demanded. "The woman in the car. Who is she?"
Gregor looked up at him. There was blood on his face, but he was smiling.
"You'll find out soon enough."
"Gregor—"
"She's already inside. Already watching. Already waiting." Gregor's smile widened. "You think Dimitri was your enemy? You think you've won because you locked him away? You've lost, Mr. Volkov. You just don't know it yet."
Adrian grabbed him by the collar. "Tell me her name."
Gregor laughed—a broken, hollow sound.
"She doesn't have a name. She has a purpose. And that purpose is to destroy everything you love."
He looked past Adrian, straight at Sara.
"Starting with her."