Chapter 3 - The Bloody Hallway
"How did you get that blood on your apron, Emily?" Dante asked softly, completely ignoring his wife's frantic struggling.
To understand the absolute terror in the dining room, Dante needed to know what had happened exactly twenty minutes earlier.
I wasn't just a maid. My father had been a loyal translator for Dante's father before he passed away. I spoke fluent Italian, Sicilian, and Russian. Isabella didn't know that. She thought I was just cheap labor to be abused and ignored.
Twenty minutes ago, I was carrying a tray of fresh linens down the east hallway. I passed Isabella's private study. The door was slightly cracked, and I heard Carlo speaking in rapid Italian.
I stopped in the shadows and listened as Isabella explicitly agreed to assassinate her own husband tonight to inherit his empire and merge it with Carlo's cartel.
But I wasn't quiet enough.
One of Carlo's massive, corrupt bodyguards spotted my shadow. He grabbed me by the hair, violently dragging me into the study.
"She heard everything," the guard growled.
Isabella didn't hesitate. She grabbed a heavy, shattered crystal glass from her desk and brutally slashed it across my chest, tearing through my uniform and slicing my skin.
"Throw her body in the incinerator," Isabella commanded coldly.
But I didn't die. Driven by pure, animalistic adrenaline, I kicked the guard in the knee, broke free, and sprinted directly into the main dining room where fifty guests were seated. I knew they couldn't shoot me in front of the city's elite without exposing their coup.
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I was trapped in plain sight, bleeding to death, waiting for Dante to walk into the room.
👉 I looked at Dante and revealed the final, deadliest piece of the puzzle hiding right in his hand.
