Chapter 4 - THE BLUE COAT
“Nobody move!” Marco screamed, pressing the barrel of his gun against Leo’s small head.
The dining room erupted into sheer panic. Guests screamed, diving under the table. Clara let out an agonizing, guttural wail, trying to lunge forward, but two guards held her back to keep her from getting shot.
I stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the nightmare unfolding in the grand hallway.
Marco was sweating profusely. The scar over his eye was flushed red. He looked desperate. A cornered animal.
“Drop the gun, Matteo!” Marco roared. “Or the boy dies right here!”
Matteo Romano did not drop his gun.
He stood perfectly still, his weapon leveled directly at Marco’s face.
“You take one more breath, Marco, and I will put a bullet through your eye. Let my nephew go.”
“I can't!” Marco yelled, his voice cracking. “She made me do it! She has my daughter!”
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.
Answer One: Marco didn't poison Leo out of ambition. He did it out of extortion.
But Open Two: Who was 'she'?
Matteo didn't lower his gun, but his eyes narrowed. “Who has your daughter, Marco?”
Marco didn't point at Bianca.
He didn't point at anyone in the room.
He looked directly at me.
“The maid!” Marco screamed, his finger trembling on the trigger. “Natalie has her!”
The entire room turned to look at me.
Matteo’s gaze shifted to me, cold and calculating.
Reversal: Suddenly, I was no longer the observant hero. I was the prime suspect.
“What?” I gasped, my heart hammering against my ribs. “No! I don’t even know your daughter!”
“Liar!” Marco wept. “You told me to poison the cake! You said if I didn't frame Bianca, you would kill Mia! You took her yesterday!”
“Matteo, I swear to God, he’s lying!” I cried, looking at the man I had just tried to save. “I’ve been in this house all week! I never left the grounds!”
Matteo looked at me. He looked at the genuine terror in my eyes. He had spent his entire life reading liars.
Slowly, Matteo lowered his gun an inch.
“Marco,” Matteo said calmly. “Natalie has been working a double shift for three days preparing for this party. She hasn't slept in forty-eight hours. She didn't take your daughter.”
Marco blinked, the absolute certainty in his eyes fracturing. “But… the phone call… the woman on the phone said she was the maid…”
“Someone used her name,” Matteo said softly, taking one slow step forward. “Someone who wanted to make sure Natalie took the fall if the poison was discovered. Let Leo go, Marco. I will help you find Mia.”
Marco hesitated. His grip on Leo loosened just a fraction.
That was all the opening Vince needed.
Vince, bleeding on the floor, suddenly swept his leg out, kicking Marco’s ankle with brutal force.
Marco lost his balance. He stumbled backward, his gun wavering.
Matteo moved with terrifying speed. He lunged forward, snatching Leo out of Marco’s grip and shoving the child behind him. In the same fluid motion, Matteo struck Marco in the jaw with the butt of his pistol.
Marco collapsed to the marble floor, unconscious.
Clara screamed, rushing forward and pulling Leo into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Matteo stood over Marco’s body, breathing heavily. He looked at Vince. “Get him to the basement. Tie him to a chair. Wake him up.”
Vince nodded, groaning as he pushed himself up.
Matteo turned back to the dining room. He looked at Bianca, who was still cowering near the table, clutching her necklace. Then, he looked at me.
“Natalie,” Matteo said, his voice stripped of all emotion. “Come with me.”
I didn't ask questions. I followed him.
We walked up the grand staircase to the third floor. The staff quarters.
Matteo walked directly to my small, cramped bedroom. He kicked the door open.
“Search it,” he ordered.
I felt a flash of deep humiliation as the powerful mob boss watched me tear through my own meager belongings. I opened my small closet.
I froze.
Hanging next to my cheap black uniforms was something that didn't belong to me.
It was a child’s coat.
A bright, navy blue winter coat with a faux-fur hood.
I pulled it out with trembling hands.
“Mr. Romano…” I whispered. “This isn't mine.”
Matteo took the coat from my hands. He inspected the collar.
Sewn into the tag was a name: Mia.
Marco’s missing daughter.
Someone had planted the kidnapped girl’s coat in my closet.
May you like
Matteo looked down at the floor of the closet. He reached in and pulled out a small, disposable burner phone hidden beneath my shoes.
“You’re being framed, Natalie,” Matteo said, his dark eyes meeting mine. “And the person framing you is inside this house.”
