Chapter 7 - The Silver Rosary
Teresa held the tarnished silver rosary out in front of her like a shield.
Samuel Grant’s hand tightened on the revolver, but he didn’t shoot. His eyes locked onto the dangling silver cross.
“Where did you get that?” Samuel’s voice cracked. The cold, calculating lawyer suddenly looked like a terrified child.
“My husband found it in his desk the night he died,” Teresa said softly. She took another step toward the gun. “He didn’t die of a natural heart attack, did he, Samuel?”
The dining room was dead silent. I could hear my own heart pounding in my throat.
Gabriel tightened his grip around Mia on the floor. Roman stepped out from behind the cart, positioning himself to intercept Samuel if he fired.
Samuel swallowed hard, his gun wavering for a fraction of an inch.
“He found the offshore accounts,” Samuel said, his voice tight. “He found out I was the one siphoning the money, not Gabriel. He confronted me in his study.”
Teresa’s voice shook, but she kept walking forward.
“And you killed him.”
“I didn’t touch him!” Samuel yelled, sweating now. “He started having chest pains. He dropped his pills. He begged me to hand them to him. I just… stood there. I watched him die. And when it was over, I took his watch to make it look like a robbery.”
“But you dropped this,” Teresa said, holding up the rosary. “Your mother’s rosary.”
Samuel’s eyes watered.
“My mother worked as a maid in this house forty years ago,” Samuel said bitterly. “Your husband fired her for stealing a bottle of wine. A single bottle. She was blacklisted. We lost our home. She died in poverty while I was in law school.”
Teresa stopped three feet away from him.
“So you destroyed my family to avenge yours,” she said gently.
“Yes,” Samuel whispered.
“Samuel,” Teresa said, her voice filled with a devastating, maternal pity. “My husband didn’t fire your mother.”
Samuel froze. “What?”
“I did,” Teresa said.
Samuel stared at her.
“I fired her,” Teresa continued, “because I caught her having an affair with my husband. The wine was just an excuse to protect the family name.”
Samuel’s gun lowered slightly. His mind was struggling to process the revelation. Forty years of hatred, built on a lie.
“No,” Samuel whispered.
That single moment of hesitation was all Roman needed.
Roman lunged.
He slammed into Samuel, pinning his gun arm against the heavy wooden doors. The gun fired into the ceiling, showering plaster onto the floor. Guests screamed again.
Gabriel was up in a flash, helping his brother. He wrenched the gun from Samuel’s hand and pinned the older man to the floor.
Samuel didn’t fight back. He just lay there, staring blankly at the silver rosary on the floor where Teresa had dropped it.
Roman stood up, breathing heavily. He straightened his suit jacket.
He looked at Carlo, who was cowering against the wall.
“That contract you forced me to sign, Carlo?” Roman said, his voice echoing in the ruined room.
Carlo flinched.
“I knew what it was,” Roman said. “I had my own private attorneys review it yesterday morning. It’s completely null and void. You’ve just committed felony fraud on paper.”
Carlo slumped against the wall, completely defeated.
Victoria was on her knees near the table, weeping openly. Her perfect dress was ruined, her makeup smeared.
Gabriel stood up and walked over to Victoria.
He didn’t yell. He didn’t threaten her.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pen, and handed it to her.
Then he picked up one of the cloth napkins from the table.
“Sign away your parental rights, Victoria,” Gabriel said quietly. “Or I let Roman handle you.”
Victoria took the pen with shaking hands. She signed her name in black ink on the white linen napkin, surrendering the only leverage she had ever possessed.
Gabriel took the napkin back.
He turned around and walked over to Mia. The little girl was standing by my side, gripping my apron.
Gabriel knelt down. He didn’t force a hug. He just smiled at her with tears in his eyes.
“We’re going to be okay, Mia,” he whispered.
Mia hesitated, then slowly reached out and wrapped her small arms around his neck. Gabriel buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing silently.
The sirens began to wail in the distance. The police had been called.
It was over. The truth was out. The rot had been cut from the family.
I looked around the room. My job here was done. The Bellinis didn’t need a housekeeper right now; they needed time to heal.
I quietly untied my apron, laid it on the serving cart, and began walking toward the kitchen to pack my bags.
“Nora.”
I stopped in the hallway.
May you like
Roman was standing in the doorway of the dining room. His dark eyes were fixed on me.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
