Chapter 2 - The Housekeeper’s Whisper
By noon, the atmosphere within the mansion had grown suffocatingly tense. The staff moved with hushed whispers, sensing the invisible rift between the boss and his fiancée. In the grand kitchen, Sofia Delgado was frantically scrubbing the silver platters, her hands trembling so much that the metal clattered against the marble counter.
Beside her, little Emma was sitting on a high stool, completely oblivious to the danger she had ignited, happily coloring a picture of a rabbit with a pink crayon.
The heavy kitchen doors swung open, and Alessandro walked in alone. Sofia instantly dropped her rag, her face turning pale as she bowed her head. “Mr. Moretti… please, about last night. Emma doesn't know what she’s saying. She’s only three. She makes up stories—”
Alessandro held up a hand, silencing her instantly. He didn't look angry; instead, he knelt down until he was at eye level with the little girl. He pulled a small gold foil wrapped chocolate from his pocket and slid it across the table to her.
“Emma,” Alessandro said gently, his tone completely different from the cold voice he used with his men. “You told me last night that the man—Daniel—gives you sweet cakes. When did you see him before last night?”
Emma grabbed the chocolate, her eyes lighting up. “He came to the garden when Mommy was sleeping. Miss Isabella took him to the big greenhouse. They were looking at a large piece of paper with lots of blue lines on it.”
Sofia gasped, covering her mouth. Blue lines. A blueprint.
“And what did Miss Isabella say to him, Emma?” Alessandro asked, his heart hardening into a block of ice.
“She told him that the 'Uncle' in New York was waiting for the keys,” Emma babbled around a mouthful of chocolate. “And she said if Mister Alessandro found out, everybody would go to sleep for a long time. Like the fishies.”
Alessandro stood up slowly. The innocent words of a child had just confirmed his worst nightmare. The 'Uncle' in New York could only mean one person: Don Carmine Lucchese, the head of the Lucchese family, the Morettis’ most brutal and ancient rival. For months, there had been a leak within the Moretti organization—seventeen high-ranking capos and soldiers had been ambushed and executed across the Midwest, decimating Alessandro’s inner circle.
He had assumed the leak was a disgruntled lieutenant. He had never imagined it was the woman sharing his bed.
He turned to Sofia, whose eyes were filled with tears of absolute terror. She knew too much now; in this world, knowing too much was a death sentence.
“Pack your bags, Sofia,” Alessandro said quietly. “Take Emma. Marco will have a car waiting at the back gate in ten minutes. He will take you to a secure safehouse in Wisconsin. If anyone asks, you were dismissed for negligence. Do you understand?”
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“Thank you, Mr. Moretti. Thank you,” Sofia sobbed, grabbing Emma and rushing toward the back stairs.
Alessandro stood alone in the kitchen as the rain beat against the glass. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, and the picture they formed was blood red. Isabella wasn't just hiding an old friend; she was preparing a slaughterhouse for the entire Moretti family.
