Chapter 6 - THE MISSING NECKLACE
I didn't wait for Antonio.
I shoved past Marcus and sprinted down the grand staircase, my sneakers slipping on the marble.
I burst into the formal dining room.
Maria was lying on the expensive Persian rug, gasping for air. Her face was frighteningly pale, and her hands clawed desperately at her throat. Two maids stood nearby, screaming hysterically.
“Move!” I shouted, dropping to my knees beside her.
My nursing training took over, pushing the panic aside.
I checked her airway. Clear. I felt her pulse. It was erratic, racing like a hummingbird’s heart.
“Maria, look at me,” I commanded. “Can you breathe?”
She couldn't speak. She just shook her head, her eyes wide with terror. Her lips were starting to turn a faint shade of blue.
Antonio slid into the room, falling to his knees opposite me.
“What’s happening to her?” he demanded, grabbing her hand.
“Anaphylaxis or a massive cardiac event,” I said rapidly. “Did she eat anything? Did she take any pills?”
“She only drank her afternoon tea,” one of the sobbing maids cried. “I brought it myself!”
I looked at the silver teapot resting on the dining table.
“Marcus!” I yelled. “Call the estate doctor. Tell him to bring epinephrine and a crash cart. Now!”
Marcus bolted from the room.
Maria’s eyes rolled back in her head. She went limp.
“No, no, no,” Antonio begged, his voice cracking. “Mama, stay with me.”
I immediately started chest compressions.
One, two, three, four.
“Come on, Maria. Do not do this to me,” I gritted my teeth, pushing hard on her fragile sternum.
Antonio watched me, completely helpless. The most powerful man in Brooklyn was reduced to a terrified son.
As I pushed down on her chest, I noticed something strange.
Maria’s collar was pulled open, revealing her bare neck.
When I had seen her this morning, she was wearing a thick, heavy gold chain with a large ruby pendant. She never took it off. She had told me it was a gift from her late husband.
The necklace was gone.
There was a faint red scratch mark across her collarbone, as if it had been forcefully yanked off.
Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen.
“Antonio,” I gasped between compressions. “Her necklace. The ruby one. Where is it?”
Antonio frowned, his eyes darting to her bare neck.
“She never takes that off,” he said.
“Someone pulled it off her,” I said. “Look at the scratch.”
Before Antonio could process the information, the estate doctor rushed into the room carrying a heavy medical bag.
I stepped back, allowing the professional to take over. He administered an injection directly into Maria’s thigh.
We waited for ten agonizing seconds.
Suddenly, Maria took a massive, shuddering breath. Her eyes flew open, and she coughed violently.
Antonio practically collapsed with relief, burying his face in his hands.
The doctor checked her vitals. “She’s stabilizing. It was a severe allergic reaction. A concentrated dose of digitalis in the tea.”
“Poison,” Antonio growled.
He stood up. The terror in his eyes had vanished, completely replaced by a murderous rage.
He grabbed the maid who had served the tea by the shoulders.
“Who else was in the kitchen?” Antonio roared.
“N-nobody, Mr. Russo!” the girl sobbed. “Just me and the chef!”
Antonio released her, turning to Marcus.
“Lock down the estate. Nobody leaves. If a mouse tries to cross the gate, shoot it.”
Marcus nodded and ran out.
The doctor loaded Maria onto a stretcher to move her to the estate’s medical bay. I stayed by her side, holding her hand.
As they lifted her, Maria’s grip tightened weakly on my fingers.
She pulled me close, her voice barely a raspy whisper.
“Sophie…”
“Don't speak, Maria. Save your strength.”
“The necklace…” she gasped. “He took the necklace.”
“Who? Who took it?”
Maria’s eyes filled with tears.
“My son,” she whispered. “Carlo.”
I froze.
Carlo was in the house. He hadn't just poisoned the tea; he had stood over his own mother as she choked, and he had stolen her necklace.
I looked up at Antonio. He had heard her.
“He’s here,” Antonio whispered, his hand drifting to his weapon.
Suddenly, Antonio’s cell phone rang.
The harsh electronic tone cut through the silence of the dining room like a knife.
Antonio pulled it out. The caller ID was blocked.
He answered it, putting it on speaker so I could hear.
“Hello, big brother.”
The voice was smooth, arrogant, and terrifyingly calm.
Antonio’s jaw clenched. “Carlo.”
“I see mother survived her tea time,” Carlo chuckled. “Shame. But I got what I needed.”
“You are a dead man, Carlo. There is no hole deep enough for you to hide in.”
“I’m not hiding, Antonio. I’m walking out the front gate right now.”
“My men will gun you down before you reach the street.”
“I don't think they will,” Carlo said smoothly.
“Why not?”
“Because,” Carlo’s voice dropped into a sinister whisper. “I have a little insurance policy with me.”
A terrible, sinking feeling dropped into my stomach.
I turned and sprinted out of the dining room, running up the stairs faster than I ever had in my life.
I burst into Leo’s bedroom.
The bed was empty. The window was open.
And Leo’s favorite stuffed bear was lying abandoned on the floor.
I ran back to the top of the stairs, looking down at Antonio in the foyer.
“Antonio!” I screamed. “Leo is gone!”
Carlo’s laugh echoed through the speakerphone.
May you like
“If you want your son back, Antonio,” Carlo said, the truth finally slipping out. “You’ll bring the girl to the docks tonight. Pier 44. Midnight.”
The line went dead.
