Chapter 6 - The Interrogation in the Dark
The heavy iron doors of the basement holding room locked with a deafening click. The room was cold, damp, and smelled of old stone and unyielding concrete. There were no windows, only a single overhead bulb hanging from a frayed wire, casting a harsh, pale light over a solitary wooden chair.
Emily sat on the edge of the chair, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her apron had been taken away, leaving her in her simple black uniform dress. She wasn't bound, but she knew escape was impossible. The guards outside the heavy door were professional, silent, and completely loyal to Victor Hale.
The heavy door creaked open. Footsteps echoed against the stone floor. It wasn't Victor who stepped into the light. It was Alessandro Romano.
He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. He didn't sit. He merely crossed his arms, his dark eyes assessing her with chilling precision.
"You've been here less than a year," Alessandro said, his deep voice bouncing off the concrete walls. "And in that time, you've managed to acquire master keys, architectural blueprints, and secrets that men have died trying to uncover."
"I didn't steal those things, Mr. Romano," Emily said, her voice steady despite the terror gripping her chest. "They were planted in my room."
"Planted," Alessandro repeated, a skeptical edge sharpening his tone. "By whom? The staff? The gardeners? Everyone in this house knows what happens to thieves."
"By someone who doesn't want you looking closer at what's happening right under your nose," Emily shot back, her courage surprising even herself. "Your bankruptcy—it's a fake. Your estate is being undermined from the inside, and Victor Hale isn't the loyal servant you think he is."
The air in the room grew instantly heavy. Alessandro stepped forward, towering over her, the sheer aura of danger radiating off him like heat from a furnace.
"You speak of my oldest advisor with a great deal of confidence," Alessandro murmured, his face inches from hers. "People who make accusations like that usually don't live long enough to regret them."
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"Then kill me now," Emily whispered, looking straight into his eyes without flinching. "Or take five minutes to check the financial records from the last six months. Cross-reference them with the warehouse shipments on the eastern docks. If you're as smart as everyone says you are, you'll see the pattern."
Alessandro held her gaze for a long, agonizingly silent moment. A muscle twitched in his jaw. He didn't answer her. Instead, he turned sharply on his heel, walked out of the room, and slammed the heavy iron door shut. The locks engaged. Emily was left alone in the dark, her heart hammering against her ribs, wondering if her gamble had just sealed her fate—or opened his eyes.
