CHAPTER 249: CHAPTER 249: WINDSTONE IS HUNTING (1)

Windstone moved through the mansion like a storm god incarnate.

The staff scattered at his approach, some with nervous bows, others avoiding his gaze entirely. Word had already spread. Lucas Fitzgeralt had been delivered something that bypassed every layer of security, and the Grand Duke’s temper was not a storm one survived by chance.

Within minutes, Windstone had assembled the household’s core personnel in one of the smaller receiving rooms.

His eyes swept the line of servants, landing first on the young woman who had carried the black lacquered box into Lucas’s sitting room.

"Step forward," he said.

She obeyed, her hands twisting in the folds of her skirt. "Sir, I..."

"Quiet." The single word cut through her voice like glass. "The package bypassed inspection. You were told to deliver it directly to the Grand Duchess. Who gave you that order?"

Her eyes darted toward the others. "It... it came with the seal of House Fitzgeralt. A silver crest... it looked official. The guard at the gate said it was cleared."

"Which guard?"

Her mouth opened, then shut. "I... I didn’t see. He waved me through."

Windstone’s expression didn’t change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop a degree. "Interesting. I recall you telling His Excellency that you received it directly from the courier. Now you claim it passed through a gate guard you cannot name." He let the silence stretch just long enough for the weight of his words to sink in. "I am curious which of those stories will survive the next hour."

The young woman’s breath hitched, her hands clenched in front of her, but she didn’t answer.

Windstone didn’t press her yet. Instead, he turned his attention to the rest of the assembled staff. "We’re going to go down this line. One by one. You’ll tell me exactly where you were, what you saw, and who you spoke to between the time the package arrived and the moment it entered the Grand Duchess’s hands."

A valet spoke first, voice steady, eyes forward, detailing a normal delivery rotation, noting that he’d seen the attendant in the east corridor despite her assignment to the laundry wing.

"Noted," Windstone said without looking up from the slim notepad he carried. "Next."

The head housekeeper shifted her stance, arms folded tightly over her clipboard. "She didn’t log the delivery at the front desk. No scan, no ID check. Not on my roster for the main floor either."

Windstone’s gaze flicked to the attendant again, then back to the line. "So far, everything points to intent, not error. Continue."

A kitchen runner spoke next, then one of the night-shift porters. Piece by piece, the timeline formed: sightings in off-limits halls, bypassed electronic locks, and casual conversations with staff who weren’t on her normal routes.

By the time the last testimony was given, the picture was clear: this wasn’t an isolated lapse in judgment.

Windstone closed his notepad with a soft snap. "Escort her to the security room," he ordered. "She will remain there until she decides whether protecting whoever gave the order is worth losing her career, her clearance, and the roof over her head."

Two of the mansion’s internal security detail stepped forward, flanking her without a word. The rest of the staff kept their eyes fixed anywhere but on her as she was led out.

Windstone let the quiet sit for three long seconds before speaking again. "If anyone else in this house believes that His Excellency’s trust is negotiable, now is your moment to prove otherwise. When I find the rest, and I will, there will be no second conversation."

The meeting dissolved in tense silence. Windstone moved on to the next room, already hunting. The city staff was clearly corrupted and he would dispose of anyone foolish enough to make Lucas suffer.

—

Windstone’s footsteps were soundless on the thick carpet as he approached the master suite. He paused just long enough to ensure the door latch clicked quietly behind him before stepping inside.

Trevor hadn’t moved from the bed. Lucas was still curled against him, head tucked under his jaw, breathing slow and even under the steady wash of pheromones Trevor kept in the air. One of Trevor’s hands remained threaded through pale blond hair, the other resting across Lucas’s waist as though the slightest shift might wake him.

Windstone stopped two paces from the bed, his voice pitched low. "The attendant is in holding. She claims a guard at the east gate waved her through with the package. No logs. No camera footage. The system went offline for precisely six minutes."

Trevor’s eyes narrowed, though his hand never stopped its slow, soothing pass through Lucas’s hair. "Inside job."

"Yes," Windstone confirmed. "And coordinated. You’ve barely set foot in the Capital manor for three years. Last year you were here less than a day before moving to the Duchess’s estate. Every member of staff knows your presence is rare and that any unsolicited delivery should have gone through full protocol. They ignored that."

The air between them seemed to compress. Trevor’s thumb traced a faint line over Lucas’s temple, grounding him even as his own pulse darkened.

"I’ve traced the box’s maker to a jeweler in the inner capital. Private commission, cash payment, no name on record. But the design matches one sold overseas twenty years ago... to Christian Velloran’s family."

Trevor’s gaze stayed on Lucas, though there was nothing soft in his eyes now. "Keep digging," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "I don’t care how many doors you have to open."

His rage was almost palpable, but the butler knew that the only thing keeping Trevor from hunting the culprit himself was Lucas’s state.

Windstone inclined his head. "Understood. How do you want to deal with the culprit?"

Trevor lifted his gaze from Lucas, gold-flecked in the low light, carrying no heat, only certainty. "You bring it to me first."

Windstone left without another word, the door closing on a silence that was anything but calm. Trevor shifted just enough to draw Lucas closer, pressing a slow kiss into his hair.