Chapter 4 - The Lethal Translation
Clara slowly stood up. Her hands were shaking so violently she had to grip the edge of the dark kitchen island to steady herself. She looked down at the five-year-old girl in the floral dress, then slowly raised her eyes to meet Mr. Romano’s terrifying, impatient glare.
"Clara," Mr. Romano warned, his voice a dangerous, suffocating whisper. "Tell me exactly what my daughter just said."
Clara swallowed hard. She didn't shrink back. The quiet, submissive maid persona completely vanished, replaced by a chilling, determined expression of absolute certainty.
"She has a speech impediment from the trauma, sir," Clara said, her voice completely cold and steady, echoing off the marble walls. "When she says 'shark', she means monster. When she says 'shock', she means shot."
Mr. Romano’s dark eyes widened. The air in his lungs evaporated.
"She didn't say 'James is so shock,' Mr. Romano," Clara continued, her gaze locking onto the mafia boss with terrifying intensity. "She said James took the shot."
Mr. Romano stared back at her with wide, horrified eyes.
"She said the man who killed their mother is still inside this house," Clara whispered.
The absolute, mind-shattering reality of the translation hit Mr. Romano with the kinetic force of a bomb. For six months, his entire syndicate had been tearing the city apart, hunting a rival cartel for the assassination of his wife. He had tortured and buried a dozen innocent men, blindly searching for a ghost.
But the killer wasn't a rival boss.
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James was Mr. Romano’s most trusted underboss. James was the godfather to these three little girls. James was the man currently standing guard right outside the kitchen doors.
👉 The mafia boss had just realized his best friend was a murderer, and the killer was standing less than twenty feet away.
