Chapter 2 - The Gold Ring on the Marble Table
The dining room went completely silent.
Forty wealthy guests, the elite of the city’s underground and high society, stared at the small, frail woman in the wheelchair.
Luca Moretti didn't move. He stood perfectly still, his dark eyes locked on the heavy gold ring resting in his palm. It was a massive piece, forged from solid Italian gold, bearing the deep, intricate crest of a roaring lion.
His grandfather’s ring. The symbol of absolute authority in the Moretti family.
“Vanessa,” Luca said. His voice wasn't a shout. It was a terrifying, quiet rasp that made the crystal glasses on the table seem to vibrate. “I am going to ask you one time. Why is your brother looking for my grandfather’s ring?”
Vanessa backed away, her face draining of color. Her expensive designer gown suddenly looked like a costume she had stolen.
“Luca, Rosa is confused,” Vanessa stammered, holding up her hands. “You know her mind is slipping. Marco would never ask for something like that.”
“Do not call me a liar,” Rosa whispered, her voice trembling but surprisingly firm.
I kept my hands securely on the back of Rosa’s wheelchair. My cheek still throbbed fiercely where Vanessa had slapped me, but I refused to touch it. I refused to let her see that it hurt.
“Emily,” Luca said without looking at me. “Did you see Marco Bellini upstairs?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. Every Thursday at three o'clock. Mrs. Bellini always sent the hallway guards down to the kitchen for a break when he arrived.”
A murmur rippled through the guests.
Vanessa’s eyes flashed with venom. “You little rat. You are nothing but a maid!”
“She is the only person in this house who told me the truth,” Luca snapped.
He slowly closed his fist around the heavy gold ring. The muscles in his tattooed neck corded tightly against his white collar.
“Marco isn't here tonight,” Luca said smoothly, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Which means he sent you to finalize the transfer of the properties. Once we were married, your family would have legal access to the estate.”
“That’s insane!” Vanessa cried out. She looked at the guests, begging for support, but the men in tailored suits and their wives simply stared back with cold, judging eyes. “Luca, I love you! My brother has nothing to do with us!”
“Is that so?”
A new voice echoed from the grand double doors of the dining room.
The guests parted like the red sea.
A man stepped into the room. He wore a sharp gray suit, his hair slicked back. He had Vanessa’s sharp cheekbones, but his eyes were entirely empty of warmth.
Marco Bellini.
“Marco, what are you doing?” Vanessa hissed, her panic finally breaking through her composed facade. “You weren't supposed to come in until the cake was cut.”
Marco ignored his sister. He walked straight toward the head of the banquet table, stopping six feet away from Luca. He looked at Rosa, then at me, his lip curling in disgust.
“You always were too soft on the help, Luca,” Marco said, adjusting his cuffs. “It makes you weak. Your grandfather would have buried a maid who eavesdropped.”
Luca didn't flinch. “My grandfather built this syndicate on loyalty. Something the Bellini family knows absolutely nothing about.”
Marco smirked. “Things change, Luca. The old men are tired of your modern ways. They want a leader who understands blood. And blood dictates that the syndicate belongs to the man who holds the Founder’s Ring.”
He held out his hand.
“Give it to me, Luca. Rosa signed the transfer papers this afternoon. The house, the businesses, the accounts—they belong to me now. Hand over the ring, and I’ll let you and the old woman pack a bag before I throw you out.”
The sheer audacity of the demand sucked the air out of the room.
Luca looked at Marco’s outstretched hand. Then, very slowly, Luca smiled. It was a cold, predatory smile that made my stomach twist in a knot.
“You think my grandmother is foolish, Marco?” Luca asked softly.
Marco frowned.
Luca opened his fist. He held the heavy gold ring up to the light of the chandelier.
“You spent three weeks torturing an eighty-two-year-old woman in her bedroom,” Luca said, his voice dripping with lethal calm. “You threatened her. You isolated her. You tried to break her mind. All for this ring.”
Luca tossed the ring onto the marble dining table. It landed with a heavy, hollow clatter.
Marco reached for it greedily, picking it up.
But as Marco turned the ring over in his fingers, his smirk vanished. His face went entirely pale.
“What is this?” Marco demanded, his voice cracking.
“It’s the ring,” Luca said smoothly.
“Where is the crest?!” Marco shouted.
I looked closer. The center of the gold ring, where the intricate roaring lion should have been, was completely hollowed out. A deep, empty crater sat in the middle of the gold band.
“Did you really think my grandfather would leave the key to the entire syndicate in a piece of jewelry anyone could slide off a dead man’s finger?” Luca asked.
Marco stared at the empty ring, his hands beginning to shake. Vanessa covered her mouth in absolute horror.
“The ring is just a frame, Marco,” Luca whispered. “The lion crest is a separate piece. It’s a mechanical key. And without it, those papers my grandmother signed are absolutely worthless.”
Marco’s eyes darted wildly. He looked at Rosa.
“Where is it, you old witch?” Marco snarled, taking a threatening step toward the wheelchair.
Luca drew a black handgun from inside his suit jacket so fast I didn't even see him move. The barrel was pointed directly at the space between Marco’s eyes before the man could take a second step.
“Take one more step toward her,” Luca breathed, “and I will paint this marble floor with your brains.”
The room was frozen. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
May you like
Then, Rosa reached up and gently touched my hand where it rested on her wheelchair.
“Emily,” the old woman whispered softly, her eyes entirely clear. “Show them what I gave you.”
