Chapter 4 - THE SILVER BRACELET ON HER WRIST
I stared at the crayon drawing in my hands.
Check her bracelet.
My eyes darted from the paper to Vanessa, who was still kneeling on the marble floor, sobbing hysterically and begging Luca to believe she was forced into it.
I looked at her left wrist.
Gleaming under the crystal chandeliers was a thick, ornate silver bracelet. It looked like an antique, covered in intricate engravings. I had seen her wear it every single day since I started working at the mansion. She never took it off, not even when she swam in the estate pool.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
I stepped forward and handed him Sophie’s drawing.
Luca took the paper. He looked at the crude blue crayon sketch of Vanessa pouring a vial into a teacup. Then his eyes fell on the three desperate words his dying wife had written at the bottom.
The air in the room grew heavy, suffocating.
Luca didn’t scream. He didn’t yell.
That was what made him terrifying.
He walked slowly toward Vanessa. His footsteps echoed on the marble like a countdown.
“Take off the bracelet,” Luca said.
Vanessa stopped crying instantly. She scrambled backward on her hands and knees, her eyes wide with genuine panic.
“No,” she choked out. “Luca, please, it’s just jewelry. It’s a family heirloom—”
“You don’t have a family,” Luca reminded her, his voice devoid of all emotion. “Take. It. Off.”
“No!” Vanessa screamed, scrambling to her feet and lunging toward the dining room doors.
But Luca’s men were already there.
Two massive guards caught her by the arms. Vanessa kicked and thrashed, her red silk gown tearing at the hem, screaming obscenities that shocked the remaining guests.
Luca walked up to her.
He reached out, his large hands easily overpowering hers, and unclasped the heavy silver bracelet from her wrist.
Vanessa went limp in the guards' arms, sobbing in defeat.
Luca held the thick silver band under the light.
I stepped closer, standing near Teresa, who had covered her mouth with her trembling hands.
Luca turned the bracelet over.
It wasn’t a solid band. There was a tiny, hidden hinge on the inside of the metal.
Luca pressed his thumb against the clasp, and the bracelet clicked open like a locket.
Inside was a small, hollow chamber.
And tucked neatly into that chamber was a tiny, clear glass vial with a cork stopper. It was completely empty, but a faint, powdery white residue clung to the glass.
A collective gasp echoed through the dining room.
“Digitalis,” Uncle Marco said casually from the table, taking another sip of his wine. “Foxglove extract. Hard to detect if given slowly over time. Causes heart palpitations, shortness of breath, and eventually… massive cardiac arrest.”
Luca stared at the empty vial.
His wife hadn’t died of a natural heart defect.
She had been murdered in her own home. By the woman sleeping under her roof.
“You poisoned her,” Luca whispered.
He looked up at Vanessa. The sorrow in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, burning darkness.
“She took you out of the rain. She gave you the coat off her back. And you ground up poison and fed it to her in her tea while she was nursing our child.”
“Marco gave it to me!” Vanessa shrieked, pointing wildly at the older man. “He said if Catherine lived, she would expose his embezzlement! He said he would kill me if I didn’t help him! Luca, I loved you! I did it so we could be together!”
“You didn’t love him!”
The shout startled everyone.
It was Teresa. The frail old woman stood up from the piano, her eyes flashing with a fierce, protective fire I had never seen before.
Teresa walked across the room, stopping inches from Vanessa.
“You didn’t love my son,” Teresa spat. “You loved this house. You loved the cars, the clothes, the power. You are a parasite.”
Vanessa bared her teeth. “Shut up, you crazy old bat! You’ve been trying to ruin me since day one!”
“Because I knew what you were,” Teresa said.
Teresa turned to me.
“Hannah. In my bedroom. The bottom drawer of my dresser is locked. The key is on the chain around my neck.”
Teresa reached under her collar and unclasped a thin gold chain, handing me a small brass key.
“Go bring me the wooden box,” Teresa commanded.
Vanessa’s eyes widened in sheer terror. “No! Luca, don’t let her! That old woman is insane!”
“Go, Hannah,” Luca said, not taking his eyes off Vanessa.
I didn’t hesitate. I sprinted up the stairs for the second time, my legs burning as I ran down the long corridor to Teresa’s ground-floor suite.
I unlocked the heavy oak door and dropped to my knees in front of her dresser. I jammed the brass key into the bottom drawer, turned it, and yanked it open.
Inside sat a beautiful, polished mahogany box.
I grabbed it. It was surprisingly heavy.
As I ran back out into the hallway, a massive hand grabbed my shoulder and slammed me hard against the wall.
The box fell from my hands, crashing onto the carpet.
I gasped in pain, looking up.
It was one of Uncle Marco’s personal bodyguards. A huge man with a scarred face.
“You’re causing a lot of trouble for a maid,” the man growled, pulling a suppressed pistol from his jacket.
He aimed it right at my chest.
“Leave the box, girl. Walk away. Marco wants this contained.”
I was terrified. I thought of my mother in her hospital bed. If I died here, she would have no one.
But I thought of Catherine, betrayed and poisoned. I thought of little Sophie, carrying a secret for three years.
I kicked the guard as hard as I could in the knee.
He grunted, stumbling back for just a second.
I snatched the mahogany box off the floor and screamed at the top of my lungs.
May you like
“MR. MORETTI!”
A split second later, three gunshots rang out.
