Chapter 5 - Shadows of the Past
While Dante stood over Michael, the heavy double doors at the back of the service hallway swung open quietly.
Elena slipped out from the shadows, carrying a warm woolen blanket she had grabbed from the linen closet. Her hands shook as she approached the tactical guard holding Mia.
“Here,” Elena whispered, her voice barely audible. “Wrap her up. She’s freezing.”
The guard looked down at Elena, his expression stern, but he nodded and accepted the blanket, wrapping it carefully around the little girl’s trembling shoulders. Mia buried her face in the thick wool, finally letting out a quiet, exhausted sob.
Dante glanced back, noticing Elena for the first time. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, sizing her up in a fraction of a second.
“You’re the housekeeper,” Dante stated.
“Yes, sir,” Elena replied, keeping her chin up despite her terror. “My name is Elena. I... I was in the back pantry when it happened. I saw everything.”
“Did you?” Dante asked, stepping closer to her. There was no threat in his posture now, only a terrifying, searching intensity. “Did you see him push her?”
“I saw him throw her directly into the cabinet, Mr. Moretti,” Elena answered without hesitation. “And I saw him pick up the iron poker to silence Mia. If you hadn't broken through those gates... the little girl wouldn't have survived the night.”
Dante’s jaw tightened into a hard line. He reached inside his coat, pulled out a heavy black leather cardholder, and extracted a sleek platinum card embossed with a private crest. He pressed it firmly into Elena’s palm.
“Pack your bags, Elena,” Dante instructed quietly. “Leave this house tonight. Take this card—every expense for the next ten years is covered. You will be the star witness in a murder trial that will finish Michael before the week is out.”
Elena looked down at the platinum card, then back up at Dante. “And Victoria? Is she...?”
Before Dante could answer, a low, rasping cough echoed from the center of the foyer.
Everyone froze.
May you like
Dante spun around. On the marble floor, amid the shards of crystal and silver, Victoria’s fingers twitched. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing dull, glazed eyes staring up at the amber chandelier.
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