Chapter 2 - THE ACCUSATION
“She said you killed her.”
The words did not sound like the voice of a six-year-old boy.
They sounded like something buried beneath the Russo mansion for two years, clawing its way into the light.
Dominic stared at Luca.
The red mark from Chloe’s slap remained across his cheek.
His hand still hovered near the arm he had grabbed.
But the anger was gone.
Something colder had replaced it.
Fear.
“Luca,” Dominic said quietly.
His son pressed himself more tightly against Chloe’s back.
“Tell me what you mean.”
Luca shook his head.
His first words in two years had already cost him too much.
Chloe could feel his small fingers gripping the fabric of her sleeve.
She looked toward the men below.
Three guards still held their guns.
Carlo’s weapon remained halfway beneath his jacket.
“Put those away,” Chloe said.
None of them moved.
Dominic turned his head.
“Lower them.”
The guns disappeared immediately.
Chloe looked back at Luca.
“You’re safe.”
His breathing remained too fast.
She crouched carefully and placed both hands over his.
“Look at me.”
His eyes found hers.
“Breathe the way we practiced.”
She touched two fingers to her chest.
Luca copied her.
In.
Hold.
Out.
His breathing slowed one broken breath at a time.
Dominic watched from several feet away.
For once, he did not interfere.
When Luca finally stopped shaking, Chloe guided him toward his bedroom.
Dominic followed.
She stopped at the door.
“He needs space.”
“He is my son.”
“And right now, he is afraid of you.”
Pain moved across Dominic’s face.
He looked as though he wanted to argue.
Instead, he stepped back.
“Stay with him.”
Chloe closed the door.
Luca crawled beneath his blanket and clutched the gray wolf against his chest.
His eyes stayed fixed on the entrance.
“Dominic isn’t coming in,” Chloe said.
Luca looked at her uncertainly.
“I told him not to.”
That seemed to matter.
She sat beside the bed.
“You don’t have to explain anything tonight.”
His lips moved.
No sound came.
“That’s okay.”
Chloe pulled the blanket higher around him.
“You don’t owe anyone words just because they finally decided to listen.”
Luca stared at the broken music box pieces she had collected from the landing.
The silver ballerina rested on the bedside table.
Its tiny arm had snapped away.
“Mommy,” he whispered.
Chloe’s heart twisted.
“Yes.”
Luca pointed toward the ballerina.
Then toward the floor.
“She… said…”
He stopped.
Chloe waited.
“She said Daddy would kill her.”
A chill ran through Chloe.
“When did she say that?”
Luca’s small hand tightened around the wolf.
“Before the car.”
“The accident?”
He nodded.
“Did she say it to you?”
Another nod.
“Do you remember her exact words?”
Luca squeezed his eyes shut.
Chloe immediately softened her voice.
“You don’t have to remember now.”
He opened his eyes again.
“Daddy finds out…”
His voice was barely audible.
“He kills me.”
Chloe sat motionless.
The sentence could mean many things.
A frightened woman speaking literally.
An argument overheard without context.
A warning about Dominic’s temper.
Or a prediction that had come true.
“What was Daddy supposed to find out?”
Luca shook his head.
A knock sounded.
Luca flinched.
“It’s Carlo,” a voice said through the door.
Chloe opened it only a few inches.
Carlo stood outside holding a small velvet pouch.
“The pieces from the music box.”
“I already collected them.”
“Not all of them.”
He opened the pouch.
Inside lay a tiny brass key.
“It fell from beneath the base.”
Chloe looked toward Luca.
The boy had gone still.
“Did you know this was there?” she asked.
Luca shook his head.
Carlo lowered his voice.
“Dominic wants everyone in the library.”
“Luca isn’t going.”
Carlo glanced past her.
“I agree.”
The answer surprised her.
“What happens if I refuse to leave him?”
“Then I remain outside the door.”
“To protect him?”
Carlo looked down the corridor.
“To make sure nobody else reaches him.”
The words turned Chloe’s blood cold.
“Who else is inside this house?”
“Too many people.”
She closed the door and locked it.
For the next hour, Luca slept with his head in her lap.
Chloe remained awake.
Shortly after one in the morning, Dominic entered the room alone.
He had removed his bloodstained shirt and changed into a dark sweater.
The mark on his cheek had deepened.
Chloe did not apologize.
Dominic stopped beside the bed.
His eyes moved to Luca’s arm.
Finger marks were beginning to appear where he had grabbed him.
Dominic looked away.
“Has he spoken again?”
“A little.”
“What did he say?”
“That his mother told him you would kill her if you discovered something.”
Dominic’s face became unreadable.
“What something?”
“He doesn’t know.”
Dominic looked at the broken ballerina.
“Where is the key?”
“With Carlo.”
His gaze sharpened.
“You gave it to him?”
“He found it.”
Dominic turned toward the door.
Chloe caught his sleeve.
“Don’t storm downstairs.”
He looked at her hand.
She released him.
“You frightened Luca into speaking,” she continued.
“That does not mean you get to use his fear as evidence.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“My wife was murdered.”
“You told me she died.”
“She did.”
“That isn’t the same sentence.”
He looked toward his sleeping son.
“Her car exploded on Lower Wacker Drive.”
“Was a body found?”
“Yes.”
“Did you identify it?”
A long silence.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“There was nothing recognizable.”
Chloe felt sick.
“Then how do you know it was her?”
“Dental records.”
“Who verified them?”
“Our family physician.”
“Where is he now?”
“Dead.”
The answer came too quickly.
“How?”
“Heart attack.”
“When?”
“Six months after Elena died.”
Elena.
It was the first time Chloe had heard Luca’s mother’s name.
Dominic sat in the chair beside the bed.
For several minutes, he looked at his son.
Then he said, “Elena was leaving me.”
“Why?”
“I thought she was having an affair.”
“Was she?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t ask?”
“I confronted her.”
“And?”
“She denied it.”
“What happened the night she died?”
Dominic’s hands closed into fists.
“We argued.”
“About what?”
“She had taken Luca to a hotel without telling me.”
“Why?”
“She said she was considering leaving Chicago.”
“With Luca?”
“Yes.”
The rage in his voice returned briefly.
Then shame replaced it.
“I told her no one took my son away from me.”
Chloe watched him carefully.
“What did she say?”
Dominic stared toward the rain-dark window.
“She said I had already lost him.”
The sentence explained the distance.
Dominic had not stayed away from Luca because he felt nothing.
He stayed away because Elena’s final words had become a verdict.
Carlo knocked again.
This time, his voice carried urgency.
“Dominic.”
Dominic opened the door.
Carlo held the brass key.
“I know what it opens.”
“Where?”
“Elena’s private room.”
Dominic’s face changed.
“What private room?”
Carlo looked toward Chloe.
“The one she built behind the nursery wall.”
Dominic stood slowly.
“You knew about it?”
“No.”
“Then how did you find it?”
Carlo placed a folded blueprint in Dominic’s hand.
“It was inside the music box.”
Chloe examined the thin paper.
A section of the mansion had been marked in red.
Behind Luca’s bedroom wall.
Beneath it, Elena had written one sentence.
IF DOMINIC FINDS THIS, IT MEANS VITTORIO FAILED TO KILL US BOTH.
Dominic stopped breathing.
Chloe looked at him.
“Who is Vittorio?”
Carlo’s expression hardened.
“Dominic’s uncle.”
Footsteps sounded at the end of the corridor.
Slow.
Measured.
An older man appeared beneath the chandelier light.
He wore a dark green tie and carried a silver-headed cane.
May you like
Vittorio Russo smiled at them.
“Why,” he asked softly, “is everyone still awake?”
