Chapter 3 - Shadows in the Household
The master study on the third floor was warm, lit by a roaring fireplace and lined with thousands of leather-bound books. Greta Boschi sat on the edge of a mahogany chair, clutching a cup of chamomile tea as if it were a lifeline. Nina was fast asleep on the soft velvet sofa nearby, wrapped in a cashmere blanket.
Alessio entered quietly, shutting the heavy oak door behind him. He walked over to his desk and opened a thick dossier.
“Greta Boschi,” Alessio read aloud, his voice low so as not to wake the child. “Hired eight months ago as a domestic servant. Former residence: Naples. Husband deceased three years ago—car accident.” He looked up from the paper, his dark eyes piercing. “Your husband was Leo Boschi, wasn't he?”
Greta froze, her tea spilling slightly over the rim of the cup. “You... you know?”
“Leo Boschi was an accountant for the Moretti family,” Alessio said, leaning against the edge of his desk. “He disappeared three years ago after six million euros went missing from Moretti’s ledger. The car accident was a cover story.”
Greta’s hands shook uncontrollably. “I didn't take the money, Don Alessio! I swear on my daughter’s life! Leo ran away because Moretti found out he was keeping a second set of books! He left us with nothing! I came here... I took this job under a false name just to hide Nina where Moretti’s men wouldn't look!”
“Under my roof,” Alessio noted, a faint glint of amusement in his eyes. “Hiding in the lion’s den. Clever.”
“I was desperate!” Greta wept silently. “I just wanted my daughter to be safe. She’s all I have. Please... don't hurt her. She saved your life tonight!”
“I am aware,” Alessio said smoothly. He walked over to the sofa and looked down at Nina. The girl’s face was serene in sleep, entirely oblivious to the dangerous world moving around her. “Your daughter has an extraordinary gift, Greta. Most people look at the world and see what they expect to see. She sees what is actually there.”
“She... she has always been like that,” Greta whispered. “She notices tiny details. Patterns. Numbers. She remembers every face she sees.”
“A useful trait in my line of work,” Alessio said softly. “And a dangerous one if the wrong people realize what she saw tonight.”
The intercom on Alessio’s desk buzzed sharply. He walked over and pressed the button.
“Boss,” Marco’s voice came through, tense. “We swept Valentina’s phone as part of the guest protocols. We found an encrypted messaging app. She received a ping twenty minutes before the toast from an untraceable server in Geneva.”
Alessio’s jaw tightened. “What did the message say?”
“The glass is set. Make sure he drinks before midnight.”
May you like
Alessio stared at the fire, his face unreadable. Valentina, the woman he had trusted for three years, the woman who shared his bed and his plans for the future, had signed his death warrant.
“Bring Valentina to the library,” Alessio commanded coldness radiating from every word. “It’s time to end this farce.”
