Chapter 2 - the secret behind the study wall
The air inside the bedroom turned to ice. Lorenzo stood up slowly, his towering broad frame filling the space with a lethal, suffocating presence. His dark eyes locked onto Vivian with an intensity that made the polished house manager take a shuddering step backward.
"Mara," Lorenzo commanded, his gravelly voice dropping into a dangerous, low register. "Take the purple drink and every single packet in this room. Run a full toxicological audit in my private lab down the hall."
Dr. Mara Quinn didn't hesitate. She stepped past Vivian, her sharp eyes scanning the room as she gathered the glass, the wax-paper packets, and the pillow into a sterile medical bag. "I'll have the primary chemical compound identified within twenty minutes, Lorenzo."
Vivian swallowed hard, her manicured fingers clutching her pearl necklace as she attempted to summon her former composure. "Lorenzo... please! You can't possibly believe a three-year-old child! I have devoted four years of my life to caring for your son! I gave him his medicine exactly as Dr. Harrison prescribed three years ago!"
Lorenzo walked slowly toward Vivian, his polished shoes striking the floor with heavy, deliberate weight. He stopped inches from her, looking down at her trembling shoulders.
"Where does this key lead, Vivian?" Lorenzo asked softly. His voice was calm, but it held a terrifying thunder that vibrated through the floorboards.
"I... I don't know what that key is!" Vivian stammered, tears of fake panic welling in her eyes. "Emma must have found it in the servant laundry!"
Lorenzo didn't waste another breath arguing. He reached out, grabbed Vivian firmly by her upper arm, and motioned to two broad-shouldered security guards standing in the hallway. "Lock her in the third-floor holding suite. Take her phone, her keys, and her purse."
"Lorenzo! You're making a terrible mistake!" Vivian shrieked as the guards pinned her arms and dragged her down the corridor, her high heels dragging uselessly against the carpet.
Lorenzo turned to little Emma, who was sitting on the edge of Lucas's bed, holding her stuffed rabbit. Lorenzo reached out, gently stroking her curly blonde hair. "Show me where she hid the rest, little one."
Emma slid off the bed, her small white socks making no sound as she led Lorenzo back down the grand staircase into his private study.
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She walked straight to the dark mahogany bookshelf behind Lorenzo's desk. She pointed her small finger toward a carved wooden rose relief built into the central paneling—a decorative carving Lorenzo had passed by every day for ten years.
Lorenzo knelt down, inspecting the carved rose. Concealed beneath the bottom leaf was a tiny, hidden keyhole that matched the silver Duca crest key in his palm.
