Chapter 2 - the shadow in the hall
The heavy lock held firm as Lorenzo hit the mahogany wood with his shoulder. The frame shuddered, but the reinforced oak didn't give an inch.
"Step away from the door, Amelia," Lorenzo commanded, his voice deadly calm now.
Amelia retreated into the corner beside the crib, holding Leo against her shoulder. The baby gave a tiny burp and settled into her neck, his warm breath fluttering against her skin.
Helena stirred in the armchair, blinking through groggy, bloodshot eyes. "What... what's happening? Mr. Rossi?"
Lorenzo didn't answer her. He fired a single silenced round directly into the deadbolt mechanism. Wood splintered. Lorenzo kicked the heavy door open, stepping out onto the gallery landing with his gun raised, sweeping the darkened corridor.
The hallway was empty. Only the faint scent of foreign cologne lingered in the cold air.
"Marco!" Lorenzo’s roar tore through the silent mansion.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs. Marco Bellini, head of security, appeared at the landing within seconds. His dark tailored suit was impeccable, his expression hard, his service weapon drawn.
"Boss? What happened?" Marco asked, eyes darting from Lorenzo to the shattered lock. "The perimeter alarm didn't trip."
"Someone locked me inside my son’s nursery," Lorenzo said, stepping back into the room. "And someone has been tampering with Leo’s formula."
Helena scrambled to her feet, smoothing her pale medical scrubs with shaking hands. "Tampering? Mr. Rossi, that's absurd! I prepare his prescribed formula myself under strict medical guidelines! He has a severe metabolic intolerance!"
"Is that why he was starving while you slept like a corpse?" Amelia spoke up, stepping out from the shadows.
Marco’s sharp eyes shifted to Amelia. A flicker of cold disdain crossed his face. "What is a downstairs maid doing in the nursery at three in the morning?"
"She was feeding my son," Lorenzo cut in, his voice cutting like a razor. "And for the first time in twenty days, Leo took a full meal without vomiting."
Lorenzo walked to the nightstand, picked up the contaminated bottle with a handkerchief, and held it up to Marco. "Look at the rim."
Marco inspected the bottle under the light. "Residue. Could be unmixed powder."
"No," Amelia said firmly, stepping forward despite Marco’s intimidating glare. "I grew up helping my aunt in a compounding pharmacy. Formula dissolves smooth. That residue is crystalline. It's a sedative."
Marco took a step toward her. "You have quite an imagination for someone who was hired three weeks ago to scrub floors."
"Enough," Lorenzo snapped. He turned his piercing gaze on the nurse. "Helena. You prepared this bottle at midnight?"
"Y-yes, sir! Exactly according to Dr. Vance’s notes!" Helena stammered, backing against the wall. "I swear on my life, Mr. Rossi!"
Amelia stared down at Marco’s right wrist, visible beneath the edge of his dark cuff. Her heart gave a violent thump.
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Marco’s sleeve had ridden up slightly. Right above his wrist bone was a fresh, dark tattoo—a split-tailed viper.
***
