Chapter 7 - the truth behind the fire
By five o'clock in the morning, the first pale light of dawn broke over the Chicago skyline, turning the rain-slicked grounds of the estate into a glittering expanse of silver and gold.
Inside the private laboratory hidden beneath the mansion's east wing, Damiano, Marco, and Elina stood around a high-tech surveillance console.
On the main monitor, an encrypted satellite call was connected to a secure server in London.
Sitting at a mahogany desk on the screen was Sir Arthur Sterling—a wealthy, seventy-year-old British nobleman who served as the primary trustee for the Rossi family's European assets. Wearing an expensive suit, Sterling held a cup of tea, his refined face entirely unbothered.
"Good morning, Damiano," Sterling’s aristocratic voice echoed smoothly through the room's speakers. "I hear you had a noisy night in Chicago."
Damiano walked up to the camera lens, his tall frame filling the video feed, his gray-blue eyes burning with icy resolve.
"Your mercenaries are in my holding cells, Sterling," Damiano declared coldly. "And Victor Vane has given a full written confession to my legal team."
Sterling set his teacup down with a quiet clink, his polite expression hardening slightly. "Victor was always a sloppy accomplice, Damiano. But you must understand the reality of our organization. The European trust holds two billion dollars in commercial shipping assets. The board will never allow those assets to pass to a housemaid's bastard infant."
Elina stiffened beside Damiano, her fists clenching at her sides.
Damiano leaned into the microphone, his baritone voice dropping into a pitch so low and terrifying that even Sterling's posture stiffened across the ocean.
"Her name is Marisol Rossi," Damiano growled softly. "She is my niece. She is the legitimate daughter of Julian Rossi. And if you ever refer to her like that again, I will personally fly to London and rip your empire apart piece by piece."
Sterling smiled coldly on the screen. "You're welcome to try, Damiano. But under European trust law, the master clearance key to the London vault must be physically presented in person before Marisol's third month. If you do not present the secondary key by then, the trust defaults to the board."
"Where is the secondary key, Sterling?" Damiano demanded.
"Ask the housemaid," Sterling sneered before the digital connection was abruptly severed, turning the monitor black.
Damiano turned slowly to look at Elina.
May you like
Elina stood frozen, her dark eyes wide with sudden realization. She reached into her navy housekeeping dress pocket and pulled out the small, worn beige stuffed rabbit that belonged to baby Marisol.
"The rabbit..." Elina whispered softly, her hands trembling as she held up the plush toy. "Sofia sewed something inside its stomach three days before she died."
