Chapter 2 — The Maid's Child
Chapter 2 — The Maid's Child
The second time Serena laughed about his hearing, Lorenzo did not laugh with her.
He simply looked at her.
For three seconds.
Maybe four.
Long enough for the smile on her lips to become uncertain.
Then she touched his cheek.
"You worry too much."
Lorenzo lowered the wineglass.
"I've been hearing things strangely."
"You've been working too much."
"That's what you said last time."
"Because it's true."
She leaned closer.
"You need rest."
Her perfume reached him before her voice did.
Roses.
Vanilla.
Something colder underneath.
Lorenzo's eyes moved to the glass in his hand.
The wine was dark enough to hide almost anything.
He lifted it again.
Serena watched.
That was the first thing that bothered him.
Not the wine.
Not the ringing in his ears.
Her eyes.
She was watching the glass.
Waiting.
Lorenzo took the smallest possible sip.
Then lowered it.
Serena smiled.
"Better?"
"Much."
She kissed his cheek.
"Good."
Then she walked away.
Lorenzo remained where he was.
His expression didn't change.
But something inside him had.
He turned toward the ballroom.
Three hundred people.
Twenty-four known associates.
Eight men he trusted.
Four men he didn't.
Two judges.
One senator.
Several women connected to families whose loyalty depended entirely on which side of the table held more money.
And somewhere among them...
a little girl was watching him.
She was perhaps four years old.
Maybe five.
Dark hair.
Pale dress.
Small black shoes.
She stood beside one of the maids near the service entrance.
Everyone else in the ballroom was dressed in silk, diamonds, and tailored suits.
She looked completely out of place.
Her hands were clenched around the skirt of her dress.
Her eyes were fixed on Lorenzo.
He had seen her before.
Several times.
The maid was Elena Morales.
Twenty-nine.
Single mother.
Worked at the estate for eighteen months.
Quiet.
Reliable.
Never late.
Never complained.
Her daughter had been allowed to stay in the staff quarters during certain evening shifts because Elena had no one to watch her.
Lorenzo had barely noticed the child.
Until tonight.
The girl lifted one hand.
Pointed at his glass.
Then shook her head.
Lorenzo froze.
The child pointed again.
At the glass.
Then at Serena.
Then she dragged one finger slowly across her throat.
Lorenzo stared.
The girl immediately dropped her hand.
Elena noticed.
Her face turned white.
She grabbed the child's wrist.
"Stop."
The word was barely audible.
But Lorenzo saw it.
He also saw something else.
Fear.
Not ordinary fear.
The kind of fear a person develops after learning exactly what happens when they make a mistake.
Lorenzo set his wineglass down.
He turned toward his chief of security.
"Marco."
Marco appeared beside him within seconds.
"Boss?"
"Who is that child?"
Marco followed his gaze.
"Elena's daughter."
"Name?"
"Mia."
"How old?"
"Five, I think."
"I thought she was four."
"She turns five next month."
Lorenzo nodded.
"Has she spoken?"
Marco looked confused.
"Yes."
"Tonight?"
"No."
"Ever?"
"Apparently."
Lorenzo looked toward the service entrance.
Mia was gone.
Elena had taken her away.
"Find out where they went."
Marco hesitated.
"Do you want me to bring them here?"
"No."
Lorenzo's voice became quieter.
"Don't let anyone know you're looking."
Marco's expression changed.
He understood immediately.
"Yes, boss."
Lorenzo watched him disappear.
Then he picked up the wineglass.
He smelled it.
Nothing.
He tasted nothing unusual.
But he remembered the child's hand.
The finger across her throat.
A warning.
A child's warning.
And for the first time in four months, Lorenzo allowed himself to consider the possibility he had refused to entertain.
Maybe he wasn't sick.
Maybe someone was making him sick.
Twenty minutes later, Lorenzo left the ballroom.
He didn't announce it.
He didn't need to.
The men in his organization knew how to move around him without asking unnecessary questions.
He walked through the private corridor toward his office.
The music became quieter behind him.
The laughter disappeared.
The marble changed to dark wood.
The warm lights became cold.
His office door closed.
Marco was already waiting.
"She's in the west staff corridor."
"Elena?"
"Yes."
"Anyone with her?"
"Her daughter."
"Did anyone follow them?"
"No."
Lorenzo removed his jacket.
"Bring Elena."
Marco nodded.
"And Mia."
Marco hesitated.
"The child?"
"Yes."
"Boss, she's terrified."
"So am I."
Marco stared at him.
Lorenzo rarely admitted fear.
That was enough.
Marco left.
Five minutes later, there was a knock.
Elena entered first.
Her hands were shaking.
Mia stood behind her.
The child immediately hid against her mother's dress.
Lorenzo sat behind his desk.
He gestured toward the chairs.
"Sit."
Elena didn't move.
"Mr. Duca..."
"Sit."
She obeyed.
Mia remained standing.
Lorenzo looked at her.
"What's her name?"
"Maria."
"Everyone calls her Mia."
He nodded.
"Does she speak?"
Elena's eyes dropped.
"Not anymore."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Lorenzo knew a lie when he heard one.
"How long?"
"Since she was three."
"Did a doctor examine her?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"They said there was nothing physically wrong with her."
Lorenzo leaned back.
"Then why doesn't she speak?"
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
"Because she's afraid."
"Of what?"
Elena looked toward the closed door.
"I can't answer that."
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
"You can."
"I can't."
"Elena."
She shook her head.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain."
She looked at Mia.
The child was staring at Lorenzo.
Not his face.
His hands.
His wineglass.
Lorenzo noticed.
He moved the glass farther away.
Mia's eyes followed it.
Her breathing slowed.
That was enough.
Lorenzo looked back at Elena.
"Who told her to fear the glass?"
Elena went completely still.
"I didn't."
"Then who?"
"I don't know."
"Mia knows."
Elena shook her head.
"She's a child."
"Children don't invent fear like that."
Silence.
Lorenzo stood.
He walked around the desk.
Mia immediately stepped backward.
Lorenzo stopped.
He lowered himself until he was at her eye level.
"Do you understand me?"
Mia nodded.
"Are you afraid of me?"
She shook her head.
"The wine?"
A slow nod.
Lorenzo felt his stomach tighten.
"Serena?"
Mia looked toward the door.
Then nodded.
Elena grabbed her hand.
"Enough."
Lorenzo looked at Elena.
"She saw something."
Elena began crying.
"I told her never to tell anyone."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to keep her alive."
The room became silent.
Lorenzo stood.
"Tell me everything."
Elena shook her head.
"I can't."
"Then I'll ask questions."
She looked at him.
"Was it Serena?"
Elena closed her eyes.
"Yes."
Lorenzo's heartbeat slowed.
Not because he was calm.
Because rage had replaced surprise.
"What did she do?"
Elena whispered:
"I saw her put something in your wine."
Lorenzo didn't move.
"When?"
"Three weeks ago."
"Only once?"
"No."
His eyes hardened.
"How many times?"
Elena started crying.
"I don't know."
"Guess."
"Almost every night."
The room seemed to shrink.
Lorenzo looked toward Mia.
The child was watching him.
"Did she see?"
Elena nodded.
"Mia saw Serena."
"Doing what?"
"Opening a small bottle."
"What kind?"
"Blue glass."
"Where?"
"Inside the kitchen."
"Who else was there?"
"No one."
Lorenzo's mind moved quickly.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Elena laughed bitterly.
"Because Serena saw me."
Lorenzo stared at her.
"What happened?"
"She came toward me."
"Then?"
"She said..."
Elena stopped.
"What did she say?"
"She said if I ever spoke, my daughter would disappear."
Mia suddenly covered her ears.
Lorenzo noticed.
"She heard everything."
Elena nodded.
"That's when she stopped speaking."
Lorenzo looked at the little girl.
Mia's eyes were wet.
He crouched again.
"You don't have to talk."
The child looked at him.
"You can show me."
She hesitated.
Then slowly raised one hand.
She pointed toward the wall.
Lorenzo frowned.
"What?"
Mia walked to the wall.
She touched one section of dark wood.
Then pressed her palm against it.
Nothing happened.
She looked at Lorenzo.
Then pressed again.
A faint click sounded.
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
The panel moved.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a tiny bottle.
Blue glass.
Lorenzo stared at it.
Elena covered her mouth.
"I didn't know that was there."
Lorenzo picked up the bottle carefully.
There was no label.
No markings.
Just a clear liquid inside.
Marco entered.
"Boss?"
Lorenzo held up the bottle.
"Get this to Dr. Moretti."
Marco looked at it.
"Now?"
"Now."
He took it.
Lorenzo turned toward Elena.
"Where did she get this?"
Elena shook her head.
"I don't know."
Mia raised her hand again.
She pointed toward the ballroom.
Then toward the ceiling.
Then made a circle with her finger.
Lorenzo watched carefully.
"What does that mean?"
Elena stared at her daughter.
Then her expression changed.
"Camera."
Lorenzo looked up.
"There are cameras?"
Elena nodded.
"Everywhere."
"Not security cameras?"
"No."
She whispered:
"Hidden cameras."
Lorenzo's face became cold.
"Who installed them?"
"I don't know."
Mia suddenly pointed toward the ceiling again.
Then she made a rectangle with her fingers.
A screen.
Lorenzo understood.
"Someone watches the cameras."
Elena nodded.
"Yes."
"Who?"
She shook her head.
"I never saw him."
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed.
"Who is him?"
Elena's lips trembled.
"The man who comes after midnight."
"Where?"
"The old wine cellar."
Lorenzo went completely still.
The wine cellar.
No one used it anymore.
At least...
that was what everyone had been told.
"How often?"
"Every Thursday."
Lorenzo looked at the clock.
11:47 p.m.
Thursday.
His eyes met Marco's.
"Lock the estate."
Marco nodded.
"Quietly."
"Yes."
"No one leaves."
Marco hesitated.
"Not even the guests?"
Lorenzo looked toward the ballroom.
Three hundred people.
One killer.
Maybe more.
"Especially the guests."
At midnight, the music stopped.
The ballroom doors closed.
The guests initially assumed it was part of the evening's entertainment.
Then the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Lorenzo stood on the balcony overlooking the ballroom.
Serena looked up.
Their eyes met.
She smiled.
But this time...
Lorenzo didn't smile back.
She lifted her wineglass.
He watched her fingers.
Perfectly steady.
Too steady.
Then she drank.
Lorenzo's phone vibrated.
A message from Dr. Moretti.
DO NOT DRINK ANYTHING.
Another message followed.
I KNOW WHAT IT IS.
Then:
IT IS NOT CAUSING HEARING LOSS.
Lorenzo stared at the screen.
His jaw tightened.
A third message appeared.
IT IS SLOWLY DAMAGING YOUR BRAIN.
He looked toward Serena.
She was still smiling.
Then his phone vibrated again.
YOU HAVE BEEN POISONED FOR MONTHS.
Lorenzo slowly put the phone away.
He looked down at the ballroom.
Then toward the corridor leading to the wine cellar.
Someone had planned this.
Someone had been watching.
Someone knew exactly how much poison to give him.
And someone had been confident enough to do it inside his own home.
Lorenzo's eyes hardened.
He turned toward Marco.
"Take ten men."
"Where?"
"The wine cellar."
Marco nodded.
"And the woman?"
Lorenzo looked at Serena.
"Don't touch her."
Marco frowned.
"Boss?"
Lorenzo's voice was almost a whisper.
"I want her to think I still trust her."
He looked at the glass in her hand.
"I want her to make one more mistake."
Behind him, a small hand tugged at his coat.
Lorenzo turned.
Mia stood there.
She was holding a piece of paper.
She handed it to him.
A child's drawing.
Three people stood inside a room.
One was a woman in red.
One was a man.
And one was a little boy.
Above them was a black circle.
Lorenzo stared at the drawing.
Then he noticed the man's face.
It wasn't him.
It wasn't Marco.
It wasn't anyone he recognized.
He turned the paper over.
Three words had been written in childish handwriting.
HE IS HERE.
Lorenzo looked toward the ballroom.
Every exit was guarded.
Every corridor was monitored.
Every guest was being watched.
And yet...
somewhere inside his estate...
the man who had been poisoning him for months was standing among them.
Lorenzo slipped the drawing into his pocket.
Then he smiled.
For the first time that night, the smile was real.
May you like
Not because he was happy.
Because the hunt had finally begun.
