Chapter 2 - shadows in the east wing
Sofia Romano pressed her back against the mahogany wall of the east corridor, trying to catch her breath. Her hands trembled as she pinned back a stray lock of chestnut-brown hair.
"Mommie, look," Emma whispered from the floor, holding up Daisy, her patched rag doll with the single button eye. "Daisy found a shiny."
Sofia forced a soft, reassuring smile, kneeling beside her daughter despite the ache in her knees. "Sweetie, we have to finish here before Mr. Bennett checks the halls. What did you find?"
Emma held out her tiny palm. Resting in her hand was a small, ornate silver key tied to a piece of frayed blue ribbon.
Sofia froze. She recognized that ribbon immediately—it had belonged to a antique vanity case Elena Moretti used years ago. Before Sofia could touch it, heavy footfalls echoed down the hallway.
Charles appeared around the corner. The second his eyes landed on the key in Emma's small hand, the blood drained entirely from his face. For a fraction of a second, the polished estate manager looked terrified.
"Where did you get that?" Charles demanded, stepping forward much too fast.
Sofia instantly stood up, placing herself directly between Charles and her daughter. "She found it on the floor, Mr. Bennett. We were just—"
"Give it to me," Charles snapped, extending a hand. His composure snapped right back into place, but his tone was icy. "The Don’s personal items are strictly off-limits. If you lose things from this house, Romano, you won't just be fired. Do you understand?"
Sofia snatched the key from Emma and handed it to Charles. "It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't," Charles said coldly, slipping the key into his vest pocket. "The Don wants you in his private office. Now."
Fear spiked in Sofia’s chest. Employees only entered Dominic’s private office when they were being interrogated or let go. "Is Emma allowed to stay in the kitchen with Rosa?"
"No," Charles replied, looking down at the quiet toddler. "The Don said alone. Leave the girl in the staff pantry."
Ten minutes later, Sofia stood before the massive double doors of Dominic’s study. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She knocked twice.
"In," a deep, commanding voice called from inside.
Sofia pushed the door open. The study was dark, illuminated only by the gray morning light filtering through high arched windows and the embers of a dying fireplace.
Dominic sat behind a heavy oak desk, his black shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the faint edge of a dark ink tattoo on his throat. He wasn't looking at paperwork. He was staring directly at her.
"Close the door, Sofia," he commanded softly.
She obeyed, stepping into the room. "Mr. Moretti... if this is about the floor wax in the main foyer, I can redo it immediately—"
"Who was your husband?" Dominic interrupted sharply.
Sofia stopped dead in her tracks. "What?"
Dominic stood up, his tall, imposing frame blocking out the firelight as he walked around the desk toward her. He reached into his jacket, pulled out the faded photograph, and held it up between them.
"Your late husband," Dominic said, his piercing eyes locking onto hers. "Julian. Tell me why he had a high-level Moretti security clearance code stamped on his picture the day my family died."
Sofia’s eyes went wide with genuine horror. "I... I don't know what you're talking about! Julian was just a mechanic!"
May you like
"Mechanics don't have access to my personal garage, Sofia!" Dominic took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "So tell me the truth. Was he the one who planted the bomb?"
---
