The Hostess Ordered the Maid to Remove an Empty Chair — Until the Boss Saw the Deep Red Mark on Her Neck

Mr. Moretti didn't scream. He didn't break anything. The sheer, horrifying magnitude of the betrayal completely bypassed anger and settled into a cold, lethal executioner's focus.

His sister-in-law had poisoned her own sister to take control of the estate and the trust fund. And she had been sitting at his dining table, drinking his wine, and mocking his dead wife’s empty chair for three years.

He looked at Madison. "Stay in this room. Lock the door behind me. Do not open it for anyone but the police."

Madison nodded vigorously, clutching the ice pack to her chest.

Mr. Moretti walked out of the study. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and typed a single, encrypted message to his private security team, followed by a direct call to the Chief of Police.

He didn't run. He walked slowly, his heavy black shoes echoing loudly on the marble floor as he returned to the grand dining room.

The wealthy guests were quietly sipping coffee, clearly uncomfortable. Victoria was laughing brightly at a joke someone had made, completely oblivious to the hurricane of violence that was about to hit her.

When Mr. Moretti stepped into the room, the laughter died instantly.

He walked directly to the head of the table. He didn't sit down. He stood behind his late wife’s empty wooden chair, his large hands gripping the top of the backrest.

Victoria looked up, forcing a sweet, innocent smile. "Oh, Leo, darling! Is everything alright? Did you finally fire that clumsy little rat?"

"I didn't fire her, Victoria," Mr. Moretti said smoothly. "I promoted her."

Victoria frowned, her diamond necklace sparkling as she shifted her weight. "Promoted her? To what?"