Chapter 2 - The Names on the Receipt
Doctor Vale arrived twenty minutes later carrying a black medical bag and wearing his coat over a pair of pajama pants.
He examined me in the cottage while two armed men stood outside the door.
Emma sat beside Alessandro on the only chair in the room, still wrapped in his jacket. Her damp curls had been dried with one of my towels, and she was drinking warm milk from a silver cup taken from the mansion.
Alessandro looked absurdly large beside her.
He also looked as if he belonged there.
Doctor Vale removed the stethoscope from his ears.
“She has a serious respiratory infection,” he said. “Possibly early pneumonia.”
“I told you,” Alessandro said.
The doctor ignored him. “She needs antibiotics, fluids, rest, and observation.”
“I can rest here,” I said.
“No,” Alessandro replied.
Doctor Vale glanced between us.
Alessandro stood.
“Prepare a room in the mansion.”
“I don’t need a room.”
“You collapsed with the door open and your child walked barefoot through the rain.”
His words struck harder than I expected.
Emma lowered her cup.
“Mama no mean to.”
Alessandro’s expression softened immediately.
“I know.”
I pushed myself higher against the pillows.
“We’ll stay here.”
“The person who wrote that receipt knew where you lived.”
“You said the gates are closed.”
“And I’m telling you the cottage is not secure.”
“It has a lock.”
He gave me a look that made my argument sound foolish without saying a word.
Doctor Vale began packing his supplies.
“Mr. Moretti is right.”
“Of course he thinks that,” I muttered.
The doctor’s mouth twitched.
Alessandro did not smile.
“I’ll move them myself,” he said.
“I’m not one of your soldiers.”
“No. My soldiers follow instructions faster.”
I opened my mouth, but another cough stopped me.
Alessandro waited until I could breathe again.
“You can hate me from a guarded bedroom,” he said. “For tonight, that is where you’re going.”
Emma slid from the chair and took his hand.
“I sleep big house?”
“Yes.”
“With Mama?”
“Yes.”
“And Bunny?”
Alessandro looked at the stuffed rabbit.
“Bunny appears to be essential.”
Emma nodded seriously. “Very.”
“Then Bunny comes too.”
I stared at him.
This was the same man who had once dismissed a cook for putting basil in the wrong dish. The man whose guards were forbidden to speak unless spoken to. The man who conducted meetings behind locked doors while everyone else avoided the west wing.
Yet Emma had touched his face, and he had not recoiled.
She trusted him.
That frightened me almost as much as the receipt.
Two female staff members helped move us into a guest suite on the second floor. It was larger than the entire cottage, with cream walls, a fireplace, and tall windows overlooking the garden.
Alessandro remained by the door while the doctor set up an IV.
Marco appeared in the hallway.
“We’ve gathered everyone in the dining room.”
“How many?”
“Thirty-two staff. Twelve security. Six drivers.”
“No one left before the lockdown?”
“One delivery van exited at six fifteen.”
“Which company?”
“Moretti Linen Services.”
Alessandro’s gaze sharpened.
“The receipt.”
Marco nodded. “Same company.”
A chill that had nothing to do with fever moved through me.
Alessandro stepped into the hallway.
I caught his sleeve.
He looked down at my hand.
I released him immediately.
“Please,” I said. “Tell me what’s happening.”
He glanced at Emma, who was asleep against the pillows.
Then he closed the bedroom door halfway.
“The receipt came from a laundry service we have not used in two years.”
“Then why was it here?”
“That is what I intend to learn.”
“Was someone watching Emma?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Did they expect you to hurt her?”
His face hardened.
“Is that what you think of me?”
“I don’t know what to think of you.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “They expected me to notice her.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever arranged it believes you and Emma matter to me.”
I nearly laughed, but the sound came out bitter.
“We barely speak.”
“They may not know that.”
“Then why choose us?”
His eyes moved toward the bed.
“Because I allowed you to live on my estate.”
“You gave me the cottage because I work here.”
“I do not provide housing to every employee.”
“Why did you provide it to me?”
He did not answer.
Marco looked down the hall, pretending not to listen.
“Alessandro.”
The use of his first name made his eyes return to mine.
“Why?”
His voice was quieter when he answered.
“Your father once saved my life.”
I stared at him.
“My father was an accountant.”
“He was more than that.”
“He died when I was seventeen.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because he died protecting information that belonged to my family.”
The fever seemed to pull the room farther away.
“My mother said it was a car accident.”
“It was made to look like one.”
My fingers tightened around the blanket.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the men responsible were dead. Telling you would only have given you pain without justice.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
“No,” he said. “It wasn’t.”
The admission surprised me.
He looked toward Emma again.
“When you applied for work, I recognized your surname. I hired you because I owed your father.”
“So I’m a debt.”
His gaze snapped back to me.
“No.”
“That’s what you said.”
“I said I owed him. I did not say you were the payment.”
Before I could respond, shouting erupted below us.
A chair scraped violently across the floor.
Then a man yelled, “This is insane! You cannot hold us here!”
Alessandro’s attention shifted.
“Stay with them,” he told Marco.
Marco frowned. “You want me here?”
“Yes.”
“Boss, the interrogation—”
“I said stay.”
Alessandro walked away.
I pushed the blanket aside.
Marco stepped into the doorway.
“Don’t.”
“I need to know who did this.”
“You need to stay in bed.”
“I’ve spent my whole life being told what I don’t need to know.”
Marco studied me.
Then he exhaled.
“Five minutes.”
He disconnected the IV pole from the wall and rolled it beside me while I stood.
“You fall, I carry you back.”
“I won’t fall.”
“You said that earlier.”
We reached the upper landing overlooking the dining room.
Every member of staff stood below. Guards lined the doors.
Alessandro moved slowly between them.
He held the receipt.
“Who handled this?” he asked.
No one answered.
He stopped beside the head housekeeper, Mrs. Klein.
“You received the laundry yesterday.”
“Yes, sir.”
“From whom?”
“The morning driver.”
“Name.”
“Peter Lawson.”
One of the drivers raised his hand.
Alessandro turned toward him.
“Step forward.”
Lawson did.
His face was pale.
“I only brought the bags inside.”
“Who gave them to you?”
“The usual dispatcher.”
“The usual company is not Moretti Linen Services.”
Lawson swallowed.
“They said the regular company had a broken truck.”
“And you accepted that?”
“Yes.”
“Without calling the house?”
“I thought—”
“That was your first mistake.”
Alessandro held up the receipt.
“Who wrote these names?”
Lawson looked at it.
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I swear.”
A soft voice came from behind me.
“That man.”
Emma stood in the hallway, holding Bunny by one ear.
My heart jumped.
“Emma, you should be in bed.”
She ignored me.
She pointed toward the dining room.
Not at Lawson.
At a man standing near the back wall.
Victor Hale.
Alessandro’s senior captain.
He had worked for the Moretti family for almost twenty years.
Victor looked up.
Emma pressed closer to my leg.
“He smile at me by laundry door,” she whispered.
The dining room went silent.
Alessandro turned slowly.
Victor’s hands remained folded in front of him.
“You heard her,” Alessandro said.
Victor smiled faintly.
“She’s three.”
“She recognizes you.”
“I live on this estate half the week. Of course she recognizes me.”
Emma shook her head.
“You give me candy.”
Victor’s smile disappeared.
“When?” Alessandro asked.
Emma hid behind my nightgown.
I bent carefully.
“Tell him, sweetheart.”
“Yesterday.”
“What did he say?”
She thought hard.
“He say Mama tired. He say I can help.”
A guard moved toward Victor.
Victor lifted both hands.
“This is absurd.”
Alessandro crossed the room until only a few feet separated them.
“You told a child to enter my private laundry room?”
“No.”
Emma peeked around my leg.
“You say white shirt make Mama happy.”
Every eye in the room moved to Victor.
His face tightened.
Alessandro’s voice became dangerously calm.
“Search him.”
Two guards seized Victor.
He fought instantly, driving an elbow into one man’s throat. The second guard grabbed his jacket, but Victor tore free and reached inside his waistband.
Alessandro struck first.
His fist connected with Victor’s wrist. A small pistol skidded across the floor.
Staff members screamed and backed against the walls.
Alessandro drove Victor into the dining table. Plates and glasses crashed to the floor.
Victor twisted, but Alessandro pinned his arm behind his back.
“Everyone has a weakness,” Victor hissed.
Alessandro pressed him harder against the table.
“Even you.”
May you like
Victor turned his head just enough to look at Emma.
“And now your enemies know exactly what yours looks like.”
