Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Private Wing
Night descended on the Rinaldi estate like a heavy velvet shroud. The autumn wind whistled through the ancient oaks, rattling the windowpanes of the staff quarters in the west wing. Inside her small, clean room, Carla sat at a wooden desk by the light of a single brass lamp, mending a torn hem on Nina’s school dress.
Nina was fast asleep in her small cot in the corner, clutching her one-eyed stuffed rabbit, her breathing soft and even.
A gentle, three-part knock sounded at the door—a knock that didn't belong to any member of the domestic staff.
Carla froze, her needle hovering over the fabric. She set her work down quietly, stood up, and pulled her gray cardigan tighter around her shoulders before turning the brass handle.
Standing in the dimly lit hallway was Massimo Rinaldi.
He wasn't in his wheelchair. He was leaning heavily against the doorframe, supporting his weight with a polished oak cane he must have retrieved from the ancestral armory. His face was pale, slick with a fine sheen of cold sweat, but his gray eyes burned with an intensity that made Carla step back in involuntary awe.
"Don Rinaldi..." Carla breathed, her hands flying to her mouth. "Sir, you shouldn't be out of your suite. Let me call—"
"Quiet, Carla," Massimo interrupted, his voice a low, commanding rasp that brooked no argument. He stepped past her into the room, closing the door softly behind him. He looked down at the sleeping child for a brief second before turning his gaze back to the terrified mother. "I need your help. And you need to listen very carefully if you and Nina want to see tomorrow's sunrise."
Carla’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. "What... what are you talking about?"
"Dean Foster and Camille Ashwood are planning to kill me on the night of our wedding," Massimo stated plainly, wasting no time on diplomatic softening. "They have been poisoning my medication for six months to keep me paralyzed. They own Dr. Hale. And as soon as the corporate vote passes, they intend to clean house—starting with anyone who has spent too much time asking questions around this estate."
The blood drained entirely from Carla’s face. She sank onto the edge of the cot, her hands trembling. "Dear God... I knew something was wrong. Ranata has been watching us like a hawk, moving us out of the main hall, checking our quarters when we’re cleaning..."
"Ranata is their eyes and ears," Massimo said, pulling the chalk-white pill from his vest pocket and setting it gently on the wooden desk. "I need you to do something dangerous, Carla. Something that requires absolute silence."
"Name it, sir," Carla whispered, her maternal protective instinct instantly overriding her terror. "You saved my brother from the docks five years ago when no one else would give him a job. I owe you my life."
"I don't want your life, Carla. I want your loyalty for forty-eight hours," Massimo said, leaning closer. "Keep playing the terrified, obedient housekeeper. Let them think I am completely helpless. But tomorrow morning, when Dr. Hale arrives for his regular checkup, I need you to make sure Nina is playing in the corridor outside the library."
May you like
Carla frowned, confusion warring with fear. "Nina? Why?"
"Because," Massimo said with a grim, humorless smile, "little girls have a habit of finding things doctors drop. And Dr. Hale is going to drop something very important tomorrow morning."
