Chapter 2 - The Interrogation of the Staff
The second-floor drawing room was silent, save for the crackle of the wood fire in the hearth. Ethan had finally fallen asleep on the velvet sofa, his breathing slow and even under Dr. Harris’s watchful eye. Sophia sat nearby, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her eyes fixed on Lily, who was curled up in a armchair, fast asleep with one white sneaker kicked off onto the rug.
When the heavy oak door unlocked and I stepped into the room, Sophia stood up instantly.
"Mr. Moretti... is Ethan okay?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"He's safe," I said, walking over to check on my son before turning back to her. "Dr. Harris gave him a preventative stabilizer just in case trace amounts of the allergen were airborne. He's going to sleep for the next twelve hours."
Sophia let out a long, shuddering breath. "I am so sorry, Dominic. I shouldn't have let her wander near the service wing. She's only three—she doesn't understand boundaries or security protocols—"
"Stop," I interrupted gently, raising a hand. "If not for your daughter, my son would be dead. You never have to apologize to me for that, Sophia. Ever."
She looked up, surprised by the raw sincerity in my voice, and nodded slowly.
"Now," I continued, turning toward Vincent, who stood guard by the door. "Who had access to the cold room between noon and six o'clock today?"
Vincent consulted a digital tablet. "Four people, boss. Chef Gustave, who baked the base layers; Marcus, who supervised the morning security sweep of the catering deliveries; Elena Vance, who brought in the decorative sugar flowers; and... Victor."
My eyes narrowed at the last name. Victor Vance. My own cousin. The man I had pulled out of financial ruin ten years ago and installed as the chief financial officer of Moretti Holdings.
"Victor was at the party," I noted.
"He arrived at five o'clock," Vincent confirmed. "But his electronic keycard log shows he entered the private service elevator from the underground garage at two-thirty. He claimed he forgot his cuff links in his suite upstairs."
"Bring Victor and Marcus to the basement holding room," I ordered, my voice dropping an octave. "And bring Chef Gustave. I want them all lined up before I finish my first cup of coffee."
Sophia watched me walk toward the door, her dark eyes filled with a quiet, solemn understanding. She had lived in this house long enough to know what happened when the polite veneer of the Moretti family was stripped away.
May you like
"Be careful, Dominic," she whispered as I reached the handle. "The person who did this... they knew the exact chemical makeup of Ethan's allergy. That isn't just an outsider looking for a random hit. That's someone who studied our lives."
"I know," I said, opening the door. "And that's why they won't survive the sunrise."
