Chapter 6 - The Grieving Widow
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Victoria Costello sat in the center of the plush penthouse living room, dabbing at dry eyes with a lace handkerchief. Across from her, Damian poured a glass of scotch, his silence heavy and suffocating.
"I tried, Damian," Victoria sobbed beautifully. "I begged Briggs to let me run to the nursery, but the flames... they were everywhere. I can still hear them crying."
Damian took a slow sip of his drink. He didn't look at her. "Briggs said the gunmen were in the main hall. He said you ordered him to the boathouse."
Victoria stiffened, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms. "Briggs is a coward trying to cover his own failure! He dragged me away! You know I would die for my children!"
Damian finally turned his gaze onto her. His eyes were cold, calculating, stripping away her practiced grief. "They haven't found any bones in the ashes, Victoria."
"The heat was intense, Damian. Everything turned to dust."
"Bones don't turn to dust that easily," he said quietly. He set the glass down. "Luca found something else, though. The old service passage behind the nursery bookcase was forced open from the inside."
Victoria’s heart hammered in her chest, but she kept her face carefully tragic. "A passage? Perhaps... perhaps someone took them?"
"Yes," Damian murmured, walking toward the door. "Someone took them. And when I find out who, I will skin them alive."
As the door clicked shut behind him, Victoria’s facade vanished. She immediately grabbed her phone and dialed a number.
"Briggs," she hissed into the receiver. "The maid. Clara. Was her body found?"
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"No, ma'am," the guard replied.
"Find her," Victoria ordered, her voice trembling with rage. "Find the maid and kill her before my husband does."
