Chapter 7 - THE FAMILY HEIRLOOM LEFT ON THE STAIRS
The ride back to the estate was suffocating.
Danny was sent to a safe house with Vincent’s most trusted guards. Camille and little Leo were in the car behind us.
I sat next to Vincent in the back of the SUV, staring at my mother’s gold bracelet in my lap. My whole life was a lie. The sweet woman I had been gently assisting out of chairs had murdered my mother.
When we pulled through the wrought-iron gates, the mansion was completely dark.
The engagement party was gone. The caterers were gone.
Vincent pushed the front doors open.
Sitting on the grand staircase, perfectly illuminated by a single hallway sconce, was a heavy wooden box.
Vincent approached it slowly. He popped the bronze latch.
Inside sat a beautiful, antique pearl necklace. The Russo family heirloom. The one meant to be given to the bride on her wedding day.
Beneath it was a handwritten note.
“Such a shame about the maid. She tried to steal the pearls, Vincent. She attacked me when I caught her. I had no choice.”
I gasped. “She’s framing me. She’s setting up my death as self-defense.”
Before Vincent could speak, the clicking of a walker echoed from the top of the stairs.
Mrs. Russo stood on the landing. She wasn't wearing her elegant dinner dress anymore. She wore a dark robe.
And in her right hand, she held a silver revolver, pointed directly at my chest.
“I told you she was a thief, Vincent,” Mrs. Russo said smoothly, completely abandoning her frail, trembling persona. Her voice was strong, sharp, and commanding. “Step away from her.”
“Put the gun down, Mom,” Vincent said, stepping deliberately in front of me, shielding my body with his own.
“She stole the pearls,” his mother insisted, her eyes narrowing. “Just like her mother tried to steal my husband.”
“I know the truth,” Vincent said, taking one step up the stairs. “I know about Margaret. I know about Camille’s son. It’s over.”
Mrs. Russo didn't flinch. She just tightened her grip on the gun.
“Nothing is over until I say it is,” she replied coldly. “You are soft, Vincent. Just like your father. I built this empire while he played house with a waitress. I protected our wealth.”
“You murdered an innocent woman!” Vincent shouted.
“I protected this family!” she screamed back.
Suddenly, a massive crash came from the back of the house. The sound of breaking glass shattered the tension.
Mrs. Russo instinctively turned her head toward the noise.
In that split second, Vincent rushed up the stairs.
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He didn't reach her in time.
She turned the gun back and pulled the trigger.
