Chapter 8 - THE NURSE THEY TRIED TO FRAME
Wesley remained in the hospital nine days.
Carlo remained missing for eight.
On the ninth morning, police found a bag inside Adeline’s staff room at the Alfieri estate.
She had not used the room since Wesley’s surgery.
Inside the bag were three things.
Several bottles of Nico’s altered medication.
Twenty thousand dollars in cash.
And a handwritten note that appeared to contain dosing instructions.
Adeline stared at the evidence photograph.
Then at the two detectives standing in Nico’s library.
“This isn’t mine.”
Detective Harris looked tired.
“We need you to come downtown.”
“I found the medication.”
“We know.”
“Why would I hide the same pills I reported?”
“That’s why we’re asking questions.”
Nico sat near the desk.
His face was dangerous.
Reese stood beside him.
“You’re not speaking without counsel,” Reese said.
Adeline looked at him.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly.”
“Then—”
“Adeline.”
Nico’s voice stopped her.
She looked at him.
“Take counsel.”
Not command.
Advice.
She nodded.
Police escorted her out.
The press was already outside.
That told Nico everything.
Someone had tipped them.
Photographers shouted.
“MISS MARSH, DID YOU DRUG NICO ALFIERI?”
“WERE YOU HAVING AN AFFAIR?”
“DID YOU FRAME CAMILLE ASHCROFT?”
Adeline’s face went white.
Nico watched from the window.
His hand tightened.
Marco said:
“Say the word.”
Old Nico would have.
Move reporters.
Threaten editors.
Find the source.
Break something.
New Nico looked at Reese.
“Legal statement.”
Reese nodded.
“Short.”
“Also security footage.”
“What?”
“My staff room.”
Marco frowned.
“Hall camera was offline last night.”
Of course.
“Other cameras.”
They began tracing movement.
Meanwhile, Adeline sat inside an interrogation room.
Attorney beside her.
Detectives asked about money.
She had none.
Asked about altered medication.
She found it.
Asked whether she hated Camille.
She did now.
Asked whether Nico had promised compensation.
No.
Asked whether she and Nico were romantically involved.
Adeline went quiet.
The attorney glanced at her.
Detective Harris noticed.
“Are you?”
“No.”
True.
“Do you want to be?”
“That is irrelevant.”
“Maybe.”
Adeline looked at him.
“You think I drugged a patient for months so I could rescue him from the drugs and make him fall in love with me?”
When phrased correctly, it sounded as stupid as it was.
Harris almost smiled.
“People do strange things.”
“Apparently.”
Then he slid the note toward her.
The handwriting looked like hers.
Almost.
But one letter formation was wrong.
Adeline had spent years filling charts.
Her capital M had a sharp center.
This one rounded.
“Forgery.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Give me ten medication administration records.”
The detective did.
Adeline signed her name repeatedly.
Same sharp M.
The note differed.
Small.
Useful.
Then cash.
Serial numbers.
Some traced to an Alfieri-controlled casino distribution.
Nico could have accessed them.
So could Carlo.
So could dozens.
The bag itself?
Purchased at a store near Carlo’s abandoned vehicle.
Then came the real mistake.
A hidden camera in the corridor had been missed when someone disabled the obvious security feed.
It belonged to a newer fire-monitoring system.
It captured a maintenance worker entering Adeline’s room at 2:47 a.m.
The worker had been hired through an outside contractor two weeks earlier.
His emergency contact was fake.
But facial recognition matched him to a former Ashcroft security employee.
Adeline was released before sunset.
Charges never filed.
Outside the station, Nico waited.
She stopped.
“You came.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at the reporters.
“Because you shouldn’t walk through that alone.”
Her chest tightened.
Security formed a path.
No threats.
No violence.
Just space.
At the car, she said:
“I can go to the hospital.”
“I know.”
“Wesley expects me.”
“I know.”
“Nico.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t need you to rescue me.”
His expression softened.
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
He thought.
“Because being present is not the same as rescuing.”
Adeline had no answer.
They drove to the hospital.
Wesley was sitting up.
He looked offended by everything.
“This food bad.”
Adeline laughed.
“That means you’re healing.”
Nico entered.
Wesley smiled.
“You came.”
“Yes.”
“You race yet?”
Nico looked at his wheelchair.
“Not today.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Ambitious.”
Wesley nodded.
Then noticed Adeline’s face.
“Why you sad?”
“I’m tired.”
“That’s lie.”
Everyone in her life had apparently become an expert.
Nico sat near the window while Adeline helped Wesley with dinner.
He watched them.
Something inside him hurt.
Not jealousy.
Not pity.
Want.
A family-shaped feeling he had never allowed himself to name.
Camille had wanted marriage.
Carlo wanted succession.
His entire adult life had turned relationships into contracts.
Adeline and Wesley had none.
No blood relation to him.
No inherited duty.
Yet he felt more responsible for being honest around them than around anyone carrying Alfieri blood.
That frightened him.
Then Wesley asked:
“Nico, why Camille hit you?”
Silence.
Adeline froze.
Where had he heard?
Probably television.
Nico answered:
“Because she was angry.”
“Addie says angry not excuse.”
“Your sister remains annoying.”
Wesley smiled.
“Did it hurt?”
Nico thought.
“Yes.”
“Face?”
“Less.”
Wesley understood.
“The other hurt.”
Nico looked at him.
Seven-year-olds were terrifying.
“Yes.”
“Because she mean?”
“Yes.”
Wesley nodded.
“Don’t marry mean people.”
Adeline covered her mouth.
Nico laughed.
“I’ll remember.”
Wesley returned to his bad mashed potatoes.
Later, Adeline walked Nico to the elevators.
“You were good with him.”
“I spoke approximately fourteen sentences.”
“For you, intimacy.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“Carlo planted the bag.”
“Probably.”
“He wanted you discredited.”
“Yes.”
“Why now?”
“Camille is arrested.”
“He needs the story to become yours.”
Adeline nodded.
Nurse manipulates disabled mafia boss.
Frames fiancée.
Controls medication.
Maybe steals money.
Simple public narrative.
Nico’s family could then argue he remained vulnerable and incompetent.
Exactly.
“He’s still going after control,” Nico said.
“Yes.”
Reese called before the elevator arrived.
Emergency petition filed in Cook County probate court.
Carlo Alfieri, through attorneys, sought temporary guardianship over Nico.
Basis:
Cognitive impairment after traumatic injury.
Susceptibility to manipulation.
Questionable medical decisions.
Abrupt cancellation of marriage.
Removal of family executives.
And romantic influence by a private nurse currently under police investigation.
Adeline stared.
“He filed before police released me.”
Nico’s expression hardened.
“He knew what they would find.”
Carlo had timed everything.
Frame Adeline.
Leak it.
File guardianship.
Seize emergency authority before exoneration became public.
The hearing was in forty-eight hours.
If Carlo won temporary control, he could freeze Nico’s business decisions.
Potentially isolate him medically.
Maybe even remove Adeline.
Again.
Same cage.
Different door.
Nico looked at her.
“I need you to stay away from the hearing.”
Adeline’s eyes narrowed.
“No.”
“Carlo’s argument is that you influence me.”
“And?”
“You being there helps him.”
“Maybe.”
She crossed her arms.
“But me hiding helps him more.”
Nico stared.
“I will testify.”
“No.”
“You don’t control me.”
“I know.”
“You need medical evidence.”
“Yes.”
“I have it.”
“You will become a target.”
“I already am.”
He hated that.
She saw.
Then Adeline stepped closer.
“This isn’t about proving you can walk.”
Nico went still.
“Carlo will try.”
“Yes.”
“He’ll make the chair evidence.”
“Yes.”
Her voice hardened.
“Don’t let him.”
Nico looked down.
Every part of him wanted to walk into that courtroom.
Stand.
Show them.
Prove strength.
But Adeline was right.
If he had to stand to prove he was competent, then Camille had already won.
Disability was not incapacity.
Wheelchair was not surrender.
He looked up.
“What do I prove?”
May you like
Adeline smiled faintly.
“That you know exactly who you are.”
