Chapter 3 - SOMEONE INSIDE THE HOUSE
Clara did not scream.
Years of medical work had trained panic out of her in emergencies.
At least for the first few seconds.
The stranger closed the door behind him.
He wore dark clothes, a baseball cap pulled low, and thin black gloves.
Clara could not see his face clearly.
Her phone rested on the nightstand three feet away.
Too far.
The man looked toward it.
Then at Clara.
“Don’t.”
His voice was almost a whisper.
Clara’s heart hammered.
“What do you want?”
He moved closer.
“Nothing from you.”
That answer frightened her more.
Her mind immediately went to Rosa.
Clara swung her legs off the bed.
The man stepped forward.
“Stay there.”
“Where is the guard?”
He did not answer.
Clara saw something metallic clipped beneath his jacket.
She forced herself not to stare.
“Are you here for Rosa?”
The man’s eyes flickered.
Enough.
Clara moved.
She grabbed the lamp from the bedside table and hurled it toward the wall.
It smashed with a violent crash.
The stranger lunged.
Clara backed away.
Footsteps thundered in the hallway.
The man cursed and rushed toward the connecting bathroom.
Clara screamed now.
“Help!”
The bedroom door burst open.
Nico entered first.
Another guard followed.
“Bathroom!”
Nico ran through.
A second crash sounded from the adjoining dressing room.
Then the glass door to the balcony slammed.
Dante appeared barefoot in dark trousers and a white undershirt, a handgun held low at his side.
Clara had never seen him look less controlled.
He scanned the room.
“Where?”
“Balcony.”
Dante moved.
Clara caught his arm.
“No.”
He looked at her hand.
Then at her.
“Nico is already out there.”
Dante’s face was terrifyingly calm.
“He was going toward Rosa.”
That was all Clara had to say.
Dante pulled free and disappeared through the bathroom.
Within thirty seconds, the entire second floor erupted into movement.
Rosa’s guards doubled.
Lights flooded the gardens.
Men spread across the property.
Clara was escorted to Rosa’s room, where she found the older woman sitting upright in bed, furious rather than frightened.
“What happened?”
“A man came into my room.”
Rosa’s face drained.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did he touch you?”
“No.”
Rosa grabbed Clara’s hand.
She did not release it.
Five minutes later Dante returned.
His breathing remained controlled, but dirt stained one knee.
“Gone.”
Nico followed him.
“He had help outside the wall.”
“How did he get inside?” Rosa demanded.
No one answered.
Dante turned to Nico.
“Find out.”
“We’re checking every credential.”
“The key?”
“Service master.”
Dante’s eyes darkened.
Only household staff and senior security had access to those keys.
Clara understood immediately.
“So whoever let him in works here.”
Dante looked at her.
“We don’t know that.”
“He had a key.”
“It could have been stolen.”
“Was it?”
Dante said nothing.
Rosa squeezed Clara’s fingers harder.
“I told you, Dante.”
His attention snapped toward his mother.
“Told me what?”
“That this isn’t outside.”
The room became silent.
Dante stepped closer.
“What are you talking about?”
Rosa looked toward the guards.
“Out.”
“Ma.”
“Out.”
Dante nodded.
Everyone except Clara left.
Rosa noticed her still standing.
“She stays.”
Dante’s eyebrows rose.
Rosa folded her arms.
“She already almost got attacked because of me.”
Clara sat beside her.
Dante remained near the foot of the bed.
Rosa looked at him.
“Before my stroke, somebody had been in my bedroom.”
Dante went still.
“When?”
“Several times.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I thought it was staff.”
“What was moved?”
“My medication.”
Clara immediately focused.
“What medication?”
Rosa looked at her.
“My blood pressure pills. Aspirin. Cholesterol medication. Vitamins.”
“Moved how?”
“The bottles were in different places.”
Dante’s face had changed.
Clara could almost see the calculations behind his eyes.
“Did anything look different?” she asked.
“One bottle.”
“Which one?”
“The aspirin.”
Dante spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell the doctors?”
“Because I didn’t think it mattered.”
Clara stood.
“Where are the old medication bottles?”
Rosa frowned.
“The bathroom cabinet, unless someone threw them away.”
Clara went immediately.
Dante followed.
Inside the cabinet were several prescription containers.
Clara examined each label.
Most had dates matching Rosa’s treatment history.
One did not.
The aspirin bottle had been filled through a small pharmacy in Brooklyn.
“What?” Dante asked.
“Where does your mother normally get prescriptions?”
“Private pharmacy in Manhattan.”
“Not Brooklyn?”
“Never.”
Clara handed him the bottle.
“This isn’t proof of anything.”
“But?”
“But hemorrhagic strokes involve bleeding in the brain. Certain medications can increase bleeding risk.”
Dante’s face became stone.
“You’re saying someone caused her stroke.”
“I’m saying someone interfering with medication would be serious. We need her physician and toxicology records before anyone jumps to conclusions.”
Dante stared at the bottle.
“Someone tried to kill her.”
“We don’t know that.”
He looked at Clara.
“I do.”
“No, you suspect.”
His eyes hardened.
“There’s a difference.”
Clara expected an argument.
Instead, Dante walked toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To get answers.”
“From whom?”
He stopped.
“That’s not your concern.”
Clara stepped in front of him.
“It becomes my concern if your method of getting answers brings more danger back here.”
Dante stared down at her.
“You don’t understand my world.”
“You’re right.”
“Then don’t tell me how to survive in it.”
“And you don’t understand mine.”
“What world is that?”
“The one where evidence matters.”
His jaw tightened.
Clara continued.
“If someone tampered with Rosa’s medication, there are pharmacy records, prescription records, hospital blood work, maybe security footage. Find facts before you decide who deserves punishment.”
His pale eyes narrowed.
“You think I’m going to kill someone tonight.”
“I think everyone in this house believes you might.”
That landed harder than she expected.
Dante looked toward Rosa.
His mother did not contradict Clara.
Something painful passed through his face.
Then disappeared.
He handed the medication bottle to Clara.
“Call her neurologist.”
“I will.”
He turned toward the door.
“Dante.”
He stopped.
“Where are you going now?”
“To call my lawyer.”
Clara exhaled.
“That sounds better.”
He gave her a cold look.
“Don’t get used to winning arguments.”
Rosa waited until he left.
Then whispered, “He likes you.”
Clara nearly dropped the bottle.
“He absolutely does not.”
“I raised him.”
“You also had a major stroke.”
“My brain is fine.”
“We’re still evaluating that.”
Rosa smiled.
By morning, the old medication was on its way to an independent laboratory.
Rosa’s neurologist agreed to review her hospital blood work.
Dante ordered every employee credential audited.
By noon, one staff member was missing.
Evan Shaw.
Thirty eight.
Night maintenance supervisor.
Employed at the estate for eleven months.
His phone had been disconnected.
His apartment was empty.
And surveillance showed he had left the property two hours before the stranger entered Clara’s bedroom.
Dante wanted him found.
Nico wanted to know who paid him.
Clara wanted the entire house locked down.
Rosa wanted breakfast.
“Everyone is acting like I’m already dead,” she complained.
Clara placed oatmeal in front of her.
“You’re difficult enough to prove otherwise.”
Rosa smiled.
Dante did not.
He had not slept.
Clara could tell.
His eyes were darker.
His shirt was different, but the exhaustion had deepened.
“Eat,” Clara told him.
Dante looked up from his phone.
“What?”
“You’ve had three coffees.”
Nico turned away.
Rosa watched with open delight.
Dante’s expression slowly became dangerous.
“Are you counting?”
“I’m observant.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“That isn’t how metabolism works.”
Dante glanced at his mother.
Rosa lifted both hands.
“She’s your problem.”
Clara pushed a plate toward him.
“Toast.”
“No.”
“Eggs?”
“No.”
“Fruit?”
“Clara.”
She met his stare.
“Dante.”
Nico suddenly became fascinated by the windows.
Finally Dante took a piece of toast.
Rosa whispered loudly, “Miracle worker.”
The moment might have been funny.
Then Nico’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed almost immediately.
Dante saw it.
“What?”
Nico listened.
“When?”
Silence.
“Send it to me.”
He ended the call.
“They found Evan.”
Dante stood.
“Where?”
“His car was abandoned near Red Hook.”
“And him?”
Nico’s eyes shifted toward Clara and Rosa.
Dante understood.
“Outside.”
They left.
Rosa stared at the closed door.
“He’s dead.”
Clara said nothing.
She did not know.
Twenty minutes later, Dante returned alone.
Clara was helping Rosa stretch her left arm.
Dante stopped in the doorway.
“Evan Shaw is dead.”
Rosa closed her eyes.
Clara swallowed.
“What happened?”
“His body was found inside an abandoned warehouse.”
Clara lowered Rosa’s arm.
“Then whoever he worked for is cleaning up.”
“Yes.”
Dante walked toward the windows.
“There’s more.”
Clara waited.
“Evan had fifty thousand dollars transferred into an offshore account two days before my mother’s stroke.”
Rosa stared at her son.
“From who?”
“The account was hidden behind three corporations.”
“And?”
Dante turned.
“One of them belongs to a company controlled by my uncle.”
Rosa’s face changed.
“Carlo?”
Dante nodded.
Clara had never met Carlo Marino.
But she knew the name.
Dante’s father’s younger brother.
A man who had helped manage the Marino businesses for thirty years.
Rosa whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Dante’s phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
His expression darkened.
Clara saw the name before he turned it away.
CARLO MARINO.
Dante answered.
“Uncle.”
He listened.
Then his eyes moved slowly toward Clara.
“What do you mean she’s involved?”
Clara’s stomach dropped.
Dante’s voice became colder.
“Say that again.”
Another silence.
Then he ended the call.
Rosa stared at him.
“What did he say?”
Dante looked directly at Clara.
“He says the money trail doesn’t point to him.”
Clara’s mouth went dry.
“Who does it point to?”
Dante did not answer immediately.
May you like
Then he said the words that changed the entire room.
“You.”
