Chapter 2 - the closed room
Two Bellandi guards stood in the doorway with their hands resting on their holsters, eyes wide at the sight of the collapsed bookcase, Celeste on the floor, and the ghost of Adriana Bellandi standing in the center of the room.
"Boss?" the older guard stammered. "We heard a crash—"
"Shut the doors," Victor commanded. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a blade. "Lock the east wing. Tell the guests the reception is concluding early. Anyone who steps into this corridor without my permission dies."
The guards backed out immediately and clicked the heavy locks shut.
Victor turned slowly back to his sister. His heart was hammering against his ribs, but his face remained a mask of iron control. He looked at Adriana's trembling hands, then at Celeste, who had risen to her feet and was calmly dusting plaster from her silver dress.
"Our biological father?" Victor repeated, every syllable laced with danger. "Salvatore Bellandi raised us from the cradle. Our names are carved into this city’s foundation."
"Salvatore lied to you, Victor," Adriana whispered. She pulled a worn silver locket from beneath the collar of her dark dress. "He lied to both of us. The night I disappeared, I found the hospital records from 1988 in the safe house in Upstate. Mom didn't give birth to you in Chicago. She was in a clinic in Boston, registered under a completely different surname."
"She’s delirious, Victor," Celeste interjected coldly, touching the swelling bruise on her cheek. "Three years in the dark does wonders to a woman's sanity."
"You locked my sister in a concrete box under my own library," Victor growled, turning on Celeste. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't end your life right where you stand."
"Because you need the combination to the offshore accounts," Celeste said without flinching. "Because the council votes on the port expansion tomorrow morning, and without my family's backing, your empire is sliced into pieces by noon. And most importantly... because if I die tonight, an automated courier delivers your real birth certificate directly to the Five Families Commission."
Victor stepped forward until he was inches from Celeste. His broad frame blocked the chandelier light entirely, casting her in shadow. "You think a piece of paper frightens me?"
"It’s not just paper, darling," Celeste whispered, a razor-thin smile touching her bruised lips. "If you aren't Salvatore’s blood, you have no claim to the Bellandi seat. Every territory you control becomes fair game."
Adriana tugged at Victor's arm again. "Don't listen to her threats, Victor. She didn't put me down there to protect your seat. She put me down there because I found the journal."
Victor glanced back at the floor trapdoor. "What journal?"
"The black leather notebook Salvatore kept before his heart failed," Adriana said. "I hid it before Celeste’s men grabbed me in the garden three years ago."
Celeste’s confident smile flickered for a fraction of a second.
"Where is it, Adriana?" Victor asked.
Adriana looked toward the library’s stone fireplace. "It’s not in the house. I gave it to the only man in this family Father said he could never fully corrupt."
May you like
Celeste let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "You fool. That man died two weeks ago."
***
