Chapter 3 - The Shadow of the Don
The mahogany-paneled study on the third floor smelled of old leather, expensive bourbon, and dangerous secrets. A single fire crackled in the hearth, casting long, dancing shadows across the high walls lined with books.
Enzo sat behind his massive oak desk, pouring two fingers of amber liquor into a heavy glass. He didn't offer any to Adeline, who stood in the center of the room, still wrapped in his suit jacket.
A doctor had already arrived, disinfected her arms, and wrapped her wounds in crisp white bandages before being dismissed. The pain had dullened to a throb, but her heart was still pounding wildly against her ribs.
"Sit," Enzo said, gesturing to the leather chair opposite him.
Adeline remained standing. "I prefer to stand, sir."
Enzo set his glass down with a heavy thud. "I didn't ask for your preference. Sit down, Adeline."
She slowly lowered herself into the chair, sitting on the very edge as if ready to bolt at any moment.
"Who put the poison in the glass?" Enzo asked directly, leaning back and lacing his fingers together.
Adeline swallowed hard. "I don't know what you mean, sir. I took the glass because Miss Ashford was intoxicated and spilling it on guests."
"Do not lie to me," Enzo said, his tone dropping an octave, heavy with implicit threat. "I have survived three assassination attempts this year because I notice small things. I saw the residue on the rim when you took the tray away. I saw the look you gave Martha. And I saw the terror in your eyes—not when Camilla raised the crop, but when I asked you why you did it."
Adeline looked down at her bandaged hands. "If I tell you, people will die."
"If you don't tell me, people are already dead," Enzo replied coldly. "Starting with Martha."
Adeline's head snapped up. "It wasn't Martha! She was forced!"
"Then tell me who forced her."
Adeline closed her eyes, fighting back tears of frustration. She had taken this job to pay off her deceased brother’s medical bills, hoping to stay hidden from the darkness of Chicago's underworld. Instead, she had walked right into the center of its web.
"It was the Moretti syndicate," Adeline whispered, the name feeling like ash in her mouth. "A man came to Martha’s house yesterday. He showed her photographs of her grandson outside his school. He gave her a vial of liquid and told her to put it in Miss Ashford's glass."
Enzo’s eyes flickered with a dangerous, cold light. "They wanted Camilla dead?"
"They wanted her dead in your house," Adeline corrected, her voice growing firmer as the truth came out. "If the daughter of the Ashford family died of poison at your engagement party, the Ashfords would go to war with you. The Morettis would sit back and collect the pieces of both your empires once you bled each other dry."
Enzo leaned back, a dark, terrible smile touching his lips. "Clever. Very clever."
"Martha was terrified," Adeline continued softly. "She didn't want to do it. When I saw her hands shaking over the tray, I realized what was happening. I took the glass before Camilla could swallow it. I didn't mean to cause a scene."
Enzo stayed silent for a long moment, studying the young woman sitting across from him. She was bleeding, bruised, and terrified, yet she had willingly taken a beating from a spoiled heiress to save an old woman and prevent a war she had no part in.
"You are brave, Adeline," Enzo said quietly. "Or very foolish."
"In my experience, they are usually the same thing, sir," she replied.
Before Enzo could respond, the heavy wooden door of the study burst open. Luca stepped into the room, his face grim, carrying a silver tray with a sealed glass vial.
"Boss," Luca said, his voice tight. "The lab results came back. Cyanide. High concentration. One sip would have stopped her heart in under two minutes."
Enzo didn't look surprised. He simply nodded. "Where is Martha?"
"She's downstairs, boss. Guarded."
"Send her home," Enzo ordered. "Give her a envelope with five thousand dollars, put her and her grandson on a train to Ohio tonight, and make sure my men watch her until she crosses the state line. If the Morettis look for her, erase them."
Luca blinked in surprise at the generosity, then nodded quickly. "Yes, Don Marchetti."
Adeline stared at Enzo in utter disbelief. "You're... you're letting her go? You're helping her?"
Enzo stood up, walking around the desk until he stood directly over her. He looked down at her with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat.
"Martha was a pawn," Enzo said smoothly. "I do not waste energy punishing pawns. But you..." He paused, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You saved my family from a disaster tonight. And in the Marchetti family, debts are always paid."
"I don't want your money, sir," Adeline said quickly.
"I know," Enzo replied, a faint trace of humor in his voice. "Which is why I am giving you something far more dangerous. Effective immediately, you are no longer a maid."
May you like
Adeline blinked. "What?"
"You are my personal assistant," Enzo announced. "You will sleep on the executive floor. You will wear clothes that don't tear under a whip, and you will stay by my side. Because the Morettis will soon realize who ruined their plan—and you are only safe where I can see you."
