Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Rose
The hours ticked by like heavy drops of lead.
Night had fallen completely over Milan, enveloping Villa Moretti in a thick, icy fog. Outside the reinforced windows, I could hear the faint sounds of patrolling guard dogs and the rhythmic click of heavy boots against the stone terraces.
Emma had finally fallen asleep on the leather sofa, her small head resting on my lap, her fingers still holding the repaired blue rabbit that Marco had carefully re-stitched for her.
I sat in the dark study, watching the flames in the fireplace burn down to glowing red embers. Every instinct screamed at me to take my daughter and run, but I knew there was nowhere on earth far enough to hide from the twelve families waiting downstairs.
Suddenly, the mechanical lock on the study door clicked.
I sat up instantly, clutching Emma to my chest.
The door creaked open. It wasn't Alessandro, nor was it Marco.
Vivian Romano stepped into the dim room, holding a small silver tray with two steaming porcelain cups of tea. She was still wearing her blood-red designer gown, but her immaculate blonde hair was slightly disheveled, her blue eyes sharp and frantic like those of a trapped animal.
“Where is Marco?” I demanded, standing up behind the sofa.
Vivian closed the door softly behind her, a cold, bitter smile spreading across her lips. “The giant guard? He was called downstairs. My father raised a small commotion in the west hall. It’s amazing how easily men are distracted when money is involved.”
She set the silver tray on the small coffee table in front of me.
“You shouldn't be in here, Miss Romano,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Don Alessandro ordered everyone to stay in their quarters.”
“Alessandro is currently in the lower vault with my father and Don Ricci, arguing over ledgers,” Vivian said dismissively. She walked over to the desk, her long fingernails tapping against the polished wood. “You’ve caused quite a mess, little maid. A dead husband, a stuffed toy, and suddenly my wedding is put on hold.”
“I didn't choose any of this,” I replied fiercely. “My husband was murdered by a traitor inside this empire.”
“Your husband was an idiot who didn't know how to mind his own business,” Vivian spat, her aristocratic composure cracking completely. She stepped closer to me, her eyes fixated on the blue rabbit resting on the sofa. “Give me the toy, Clara.”
I froze. “What?”
“Give me the rabbit,” she repeated, her voice dropping into a desperate whisper. “I know Leo Bennett hid a physical back-up drive inside it. Give it to me, and I will make sure you and your daughter walk out of this villa with ten million euros. You can leave Italy forever. You can buy a palace in Spain, a villa in France... whatever you want.”
The pieces in my head suddenly connected with blinding, terrifying clarity.
The luxury gowns. The arrogance. The constant pressure on Alessandro to merge the Romano and Moretti assets through marriage.
“It wasn't just your father,” I gasped, stepping back. “It was you.”
Vivian’s smile turned lethal. “Alessandro thought he was marrying a docile mafia princess who would stay in her gilded cage while he ran the city. He had no idea I was the one managing my father’s offshore accounts. I built La Vipera. I sold his shipping routes to the Russians. And your pathetic husband almost ruined everything two years ago.”
May you like
She reached into the folds of her red dress and pulled out a small, sleek silver pistol equipped with a heavy silencer.
“Drink the tea, Clara,” Vivian whispered, pointing the weapon directly at my heart. “Drink it, and go to sleep peacefully with your daughter. If you make a sound, I will shoot the girl first.”
