Chapter 6 - THE POISONED DRINK
"A month ago," Antonio whispered, staring at the marriage certificate as if it were a venomous snake. "The night of the winery buyout. I had three drinks. I woke up the next morning in my own bed, wearing a different suit."
He looked at me, his eyes wide with a terrifying realization.
"They drugged me."
I held Leo tighter against my chest, the little boy trembling as the reality of the mansion’s betrayal settled over us.
If Bianca and Antonio were legally married, the guardianship papers she filed for Evelyn made perfect sense. As his wife, Bianca would have the legal right to make medical decisions for his mother if Antonio were deemed "unfit."
Or if he were dead.
"Sir," I whispered, the puzzle pieces violently slamming together in my mind. "The wire transfer. Bianca sent Marco five million dollars yesterday."
Antonio’s head snapped up. "What did you just say?"
"I found a receipt in her coat," I confessed, the words spilling out before fear could stop them. "Marco threatened my brother's scholarship if I told you. They’re working together."
The silence in the study was absolute.
Antonio didn't yell. He didn't throw anything.
He simply folded the marriage certificate, placed it in his pocket, and took a deep, shuddering breath.
When he exhaled, the son who loved his mother was gone. The boss of the Philadelphia underworld had returned.
"Take Leo upstairs," Antonio ordered, his voice cold as ice. "Lock yourselves in my mother's room. Do not open the door for anyone except me."
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"I'm going to clean house."
I carried Leo up the grand staircase. The mansion was in chaos. Bodyguards were shouting, searching the grounds for Bianca.
I reached Evelyn's room and locked the heavy oak door behind me, sliding the deadbolt into place.
Evelyn was sitting up in bed, clutching her wooden rosary.
"Lily?" she rasped, seeing the terror on my face.
"We're safe," I lied, setting Leo on the bed next to her. "Antonio knows everything."
Evelyn pulled her grandson into her arms, kissing his forehead. But her eyes remained fixed on me, sharp and knowing.
"Marco?" she asked.
"Yes," I nodded. "Antonio knows about him too."
Evelyn closed her eyes, a tear escaping down her wrinkled cheek. She had kept the secret of Marco's parentage for decades to protect her son, and now that very secret was tearing their family apart.
I paced the floor, my anxiety spiking with every shout echoing from the floor below.
Suddenly, my eyes fell on Evelyn's nightstand.
Her evening medications were laid out, as they always were. A small paper cup of pills. A glass of water.
But next to the water glass was something that shouldn't be there.
A silver pocket watch.
Vincenzo’s watch.
"Mrs. Caruso," I said, stepping closer. "Did Antonio bring the watch back up here?"
Evelyn shook her head. "No."
My stomach plummeted.
Antonio had left the watch on the dining table downstairs.
I walked over and picked it up. The metal was cold.
I pressed the hidden latch.
The back popped open.
The photograph of Vincenzo and baby Marco was still there.
But tucked behind it was a small, torn piece of yellow paper.
I pulled it out, my breath catching in my throat.
It was the bottom half of the speech Bianca had torn up at dinner.
I turned it over.
There was a message written on the back, scrawled in hasty, aggressive handwriting.
Drink the water, old woman, and go to sleep. Or the maid's brother dies.
I dropped the paper as if it burned me and stared at the glass of water on the nightstand.
Marco had been in this room while I was downstairs.
He had poisoned her water.
"Mrs. Caruso!" I gasped, grabbing the glass. "Did you drink this?"
Evelyn shook her head slowly.
"I... was... waiting... for... you."
I let out a sob of relief, rushing to the en-suite bathroom and pouring the tainted water down the sink.
When I returned, Evelyn was pointing a trembling finger toward her closet.
"My... blue... coat."
"You want your coat?" I asked, confused.
She nodded urgently. "Pocket."
I hurried to the closet and found the heavy navy-blue wool coat she hadn't worn since before her stroke. I reached into the right pocket.
My fingers brushed against thick paper.
I pulled it out.
It was a faded train ticket.
Dated October 14th, 1999.
The night Vincenzo Caruso died of a supposed heart attack in his office.
"What is this?" I asked.
Evelyn looked at me, her eyes filled with a terrifying sorrow.
"I... wasn't... home."
Before I could ask what she meant, the doorknob slowly turned.
May you like
Then, a heavy fist hammered against the wood.
"Lily," Marco’s voice slithered through the door. "Open up. Antonio is hurt."
