THE CHILD’S DRAWING IN THE GREENHOUSE

Dominic stared at the rusted brown letters.

Poison.

His twelve-year-old sister had written it in her own blood.

“Vincent,” Dominic said. His voice was no longer a roar. It was a cold, mechanical promise of violence. “What did you give her?”

Vincent’s knees gave out. He collapsed onto the frozen earth, weeping.

“It wasn't me! Dominic, you have to believe me! I loved that little girl!”

“You let my father believe she wandered out into a blizzard!” Dominic shouted, stepping toward him. “You let a good man go to prison for a gate you knew was locked!”

“I was protecting the family!” Vincent sobbed.

“From who?!”

Vincent squeezed his eyes shut.

“From your mother.”

The wind seemed to stop entirely.

Dominic froze.

His mother, Beatrice Moretti, had died of a sudden heart attack two days after Emily’s funeral. The doctors said the grief had killed her.

“What did you just say?” Dominic whispered.

Vincent looked up, his face twisted in agony.

“Your mother didn't want Emily to inherit the trust. The family council was going to divide the empire between you two. Beatrice wanted it all for you.”

Dominic shook his head slowly. “My mother loved Emily.”

“Your mother loved power,” Vincent corrected bitterly. “She laced Emily’s hot chocolate with digitalis. She thought it would look like a natural heart failure.”

Claire gasped, her hand tightening on Bruno’s collar.

“But Emily didn't die right away,” Vincent continued. “She realized she was sick. She ran outside to hide in the greenhouse. Your mother sent me to find her. But Samuel got there first.”

Dominic looked at Claire.

“Your father found her?”

Claire nodded, tears spilling down her freezing cheeks.

“He found her shivering,” Claire said. “He wrapped his coat around her. He tried to carry her to the gate to call an ambulance. But someone stopped him.”

Dominic looked back at Vincent.

“You knocked Samuel out,” Dominic stated. It wasn't a question.

“I had to!” Vincent cried. “Beatrice said if the police got involved, the entire syndicate would fall! I took Emily. I carried her to the lake. I dropped her in the ice.”

A sickening silence fell over the garden.

Dominic looked at the man who had taught him how to tie a tie. The man who had bought him his first car.

He was looking at a monster.

“Where is Samuel’s coat?” Dominic asked Claire softly.

Claire wiped her eyes. “My father said Vincent took it off Emily before he threw her in the water. He didn't want the police finding a security guard’s coat on her body.”

Dominic turned back to Vincent.

“Where is the coat, Vincent?”

Vincent pointed a shaking finger toward the main house.

“In the basement mudroom. Hidden behind the old storage lockers. I couldn't bring myself to burn it.”

Dominic turned and walked toward the mansion.

“Bring the dog,” he ordered Claire.

They left Vincent weeping in the snow, guarded by three of Dominic’s men who had quietly surrounded the garden during the confession.

Inside the basement, the air smelled of dust and old cedar.

Dominic moved a heavy wooden storage locker with a violent shove.

Behind it, hanging on a rusted nail in the shadows, was a heavy, dark canvas coat.

Security Guard. Samuel Bennett.

Claire let out a choked sob. She hadn't seen that coat since she was a little girl.