Chapter 285: A Sitting Duck

Chapter 285: A Sitting Duck
"Something like that," I said, smiling at her enthusiasm. "We're going to play a special treasure hunt game. There's a magical door hidden somewhere in the garden at James's grandfather's house. It looks like a door built into the hillside. If you find it, I want you to get very excited and call me over right away."

"What kind of treasure is behind the door?" Theo asked, eyes widening with interest. 

"That's the mystery we're going to solve," I replied with a wink. "But you have to find the door first. It's a very special door that might help Mommy solve a puzzle I've been working on for a long time." 

"Like a mystery box in a video game?" Theo asked with growing excitement. 

"Exactly like that," I nodded, relieved at his understanding. "And if you help me find it, there might be a special reward for my little detectives." 

"We'll find it, Mommy!" Harper clapped her hands together. "We're the best treasure hunters ever!"



The Thornton estate sprawled across several acres, its Georgian architecture gleaming in the afternoon sun. Gardeners had filled the terraces with fresh flowers, white tents dotted the lawn for the celebration, and catering staff bustled about with trays of appetizers and champagne.

James met us at the main entrance, looking devastating in a charcoal suit. The twins launched themselves at him with excited shrieks, and he caught them easily, one in each arm.

"My favorite people," he said, kissing the tops of their heads. His eyes met mine over Harper's golden curls, full of warmth and something deeper. 

Kelly floated toward us, elegant in a cream-colored pantsuit. "There you are! I'm so glad you could make it." She bent to greet the twins with the kind of exaggerated enthusiasm adults often reserve for children. "And who are these adorable little ones?"

After introductions and small talk, we moved to the garden where tables had been arranged on the sprawling lawn. George sat at the head of the main table, looking less than thrilled by the festivities. When he spotted me, his expression darkened further.

"You invited her?" I overheard him hissing to Kelly.

"Be nice," Kelly whispered back. "They're James's guests as much as mine."

Throughout the meal, I kept one eye on the children and another on Duke, who seemed unusually tense. He barely touched his food, checking his watch repeatedly and glancing toward the far end of the garden where I knew the wine cellar entrance was located.

As dessert was being served, Theo suddenly jumped up from his chair. "Mom! Harper! I found something cool!" He took off running toward the hedge-lined path that led deeper into the garden.

Harper, not to be outdone, raced after him. "Wait for me!"

"Babies, don't run off!" I called, playing my part while exchanging a quick glance with James. He gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

We followed the twins down the winding path to where the garden sloped downward. There, just as I'd described, was a set of heavy wooden doors set into the hillside, framed by ancient stone and draped with ivy.

"Look!" Theo pointed excitedly. "It's like a secret hideout!"

"I bet there's treasure inside!" Harper added, bouncing on her toes.

Duke, who had followed close behind, suddenly pushed forward. "Children, get away from there!" His voice carried a sharp edge that made both twins freeze. "That area is off-limits."

"Why?" I asked innocently. "It's just a wine cellar, isn't it? The children would probably enjoy seeing all the old bottles."

Duke's face had gone pale. "It's dangerous down there. Unstable floors, chemicals for preserving the wine. Not suitable for children."

By now, several other guests had gathered, drawn by the commotion. Kelly looked confused, while George watched with narrowed eyes.

"What's the problem?" James asked, stepping forward. "I've been in that cellar hundreds of times. There's nothing dangerous there."

"Things change," Duke snapped. "The cellar is my private space now. No one enters without my permission."

I met his gaze directly. "You seem awfully protective of a bunch of wine bottles, Duke. Is there something else down there you don't want us to see?"

His eyes flicked to George, then back to me, hatred burning in their depths. "This is private property. My private property."

"Since when does a wine cellar on the family estate become your private property?" James asked, his tone deceptively casual.

Harper suddenly pressed her ear against the crack between the doors. "I hear something moving in there!" she stage-whispered loudly.

Duke lunged forward, reaching for Harper's arm. "Get away from there!"

James intercepted him instantly, grabbing his uncle's wrist. "Don't touch her," he warned, voice low and dangerous.

I pulled both children behind me, heart pounding. "Touch my daughter, and I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life."

Duke wrenched his arm free, face contorted with rage. "This is family property, and I'm family. You're nothing but an interloper. All of you, back off now!"

"Or what?" James challenged.

Duke reached into his jacket, and my blood ran cold. "He's got a weapon!" I shouted, pushing the twins further behind me.

Marcus appeared from nowhere, tackling Duke from behind. They crashed to the ground, a small handgun skittering across the flagstones. Guests scattered, screaming. The twins clung to my legs, terrified.

George stepped forward, his face ashen. "What the hell is happening here? Duke, have you lost your mind?"

Duke struggled against Marcus's grip, spitting with rage. "This bitch set me up! She's trying to destroy our family!"

"By looking in a wine cellar?" George's tone dripped with disbelief. "What exactly are you hiding down there, son?"

When Duke refused to answer, George turned to the gathered security personnel. "Break it open. Now."

Two men stepped forward with tools. The ancient padlock gave way easily, and the heavy wooden doors creaked open to reveal stone steps descending into darkness. James grabbed a flashlight from one of the security men and led the way down.

The cellar was vast, lined with racks containing thousands of bottles. Temperature control systems hummed quietly, maintaining the perfect environment for aging wine. But in the far corner, partially hidden behind a massive oak barrel, was a makeshift living space—a cot with rumpled bedding, a small table with food containers, books, and women's clothing neatly folded on a chair.

The occupant, however, was nowhere to be seen. 

George pointed a trembling finger at the bed. "What is that? What the hell is that?" 

Duke remained silent, face tight with suppressed rage. 

"You have nothing to say?" George's voice bounced off the stone walls. "What exactly is going on here?"

Duke finally shrugged, a gesture of defiance rather than surrender. "No need to explain. It's exactly what it looks like. I keep a woman here sometimes. That's all."