SHE CAME FOR THE MASTER OF THE HOUSE

Luca held the crumpled paper up to the light.

It wasn't a letter.

It was a legal document.

Thick parchment. Red wax seal at the bottom.

“What is it?” Maria asked, stepping closer.

“It’s a draft of my father’s will,” Luca said. “Dated three days before he died in that car accident.”

Vanessa’s face went chalk white. “Luca, I can explain—”

“Shut up,” Luca said.

He didn't yell. The quietness of his command was absolute.

He read the document aloud.

“‘In the event of my passing, control of the Moretti estate and all associated assets shall bypass my firstborn, Luca, and be held in a blind trust for my second son, Leonardo. The trust will be managed entirely by his mother, Vanessa Bellini.’”

The kitchen was dead silent.

Even at seven years old, Leo seemed to understand that something terrible was happening. He gripped the fabric of my apron tightly.

“My father never filed this,” Luca said, his eyes locking onto Vanessa. “Because he died before he could. But you kept it. Why?”

“It proves he loved me!” Vanessa cried, tears spilling over her cheeks. “It proves Leo deserves a place here!”

“It proves motive,” Maria said sharply.

We all looked at the older woman.

Maria stepped out of the shadows of the pantry. “Isabella always said your father’s car crash was too convenient. He was an expert driver. The brakes just failed?”

“Are you accusing me of murder?” Vanessa shrieked. “I was twenty-two years old! I didn't know how to cut brake lines!”

“No,” Luca said slowly. “You didn’t.”

He looked down at the document again.

He pointed to the bottom of the page.

“But the man who signed as a witness to this will... he did.”

Luca turned the paper so we could see the signature.

Dr. Arthur Vance.

My blood ran cold.

I had only been at the estate for nine months, but I had heard that name from the older staff.

Dr. Vance was the private physician who had treated Luca’s mother during her final months.

“Dr. Vance,” Maria whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. “He was Isabella’s doctor. He was at the house every day.”

“He was also the man who pronounced my father dead at the scene of the crash,” Luca said.

The pieces were slamming together.

Answer one. Open two.

We knew Vanessa was plotting to steal the inheritance.

But now a much darker, much more terrifying question opened up: Was the mother’s illness natural?

“You were sleeping with the doctor,” Luca said to Vanessa.

Vanessa backed up against the marble island. “No! I barely knew him! He was just a friend of your father’s!”

“Liar,” Leo said.

Everyone stopped.

The little boy stepped out from behind me.

He pointed a small finger at Vanessa.

“You yelled at him on the phone yesterday,” Leo said, his voice surprisingly steady. “You told him if he didn't give you more medicine, you were going to tell the police about the car.”

Vanessa’s eyes bulged. “Leo! Be quiet!”

“Don't you ever raise your voice at him again,” Luca snarled.

He stood up, towering over his former fiancée.

“Emma,” Luca commanded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Take Leo to the kitchen sitting area. Make him a hot chocolate. Do not leave his side.”

“Come on, Leo,” I said softly, guiding the boy away from the center of the conflict.

As I poured milk into a saucepan, I kept my eyes on the reflection in the stainless steel oven door.

Matteo, the underboss, walked into the kitchen.

He was wearing a perfectly tailored black suit, but his eyes were completely dead.

“The guests are gone, Boss,” Matteo said. “Gates are locked.”

“Good,” Luca said. “Go to Vanessa’s suite. Tear it apart. Find every phone, every piece of paper, every bottle of pills.”

“Matteo, please!” Vanessa begged, grabbing the underboss’s arm.

Matteo simply brushed her hand off as if she were a piece of lint. “Yes, Boss.”

As Matteo left, Luca turned back to Vanessa.

“Where is Dr. Vance right now?”

“I don't know,” Vanessa sobbed.

“Matteo will find out in about five minutes when he breaks into your phone,” Luca said. “If you tell me now, you get to walk out of this house alive. If you make me wait for Matteo…”

Luca let the threat hang in the air.

Vanessa collapsed into one of the barstools, burying her face in her hands.

“He’s at the Palmer House Hotel,” she wept. “Room 412.”

Luca pulled out his cell phone and typed a single message.

Then, he looked at Maria.

“Maria, I am so sorry. For everything.”

Maria shook her head, tears finally falling. “You didn't know, Luca.”

“I should have known,” he said.

Just then, Matteo walked back into the kitchen.

He was holding a woman’s heavy winter coat.

It was beautiful. Cashmere. Deep navy blue.

But it was covered in dried, dark brown stains.