Chapter 9 - The Eavesdropper
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Rosie didn't try to use the main door. She knew Silas’s men would never let her past. But she had worked in the Whitfield mansion for six years; she knew the bones of the house better than anyone.
She slipped into the small adjoining bathroom, stood on the edge of the porcelain bathtub, and carefully pushed open the heavy iron grate of the ancient ventilation shaft. It was a tight squeeze, but she managed to pull herself up into the dusty, narrow ductwork that ran between the walls of the first and second floors.
She crawled silently, the dust burning her nose, following the vibrations of the music from the ballroom. She navigated toward the east wing, stopping above the private study where Thomas had interrogated Emily the day before.
Through the slats of the air vent, she could see the room below.
It was empty. Or so she thought.
The heavy oak doors clicked open, and two figures stepped inside, quickly shutting and locking the door behind them. It was Emily and her father, Don Rossi.
Rosie held her breath, pressing her ear against the cold metal grate.
“Everything is in place, Papa,” Emily whispered, her voice stripped of its sweet, high-society melodic tone, revealing a harsh, calculating edge. “The poison is already mixed into the specialized reserve champagne Thomas insists on drinking for the toast. It’s the same compound we used on Vincenzo. Undetectable.”
Don Rossi nodded approvingly, leaning heavily on his cane. “You have done well, my daughter. Thomas is arrogant. He thinks he is marrying you to control our ports. He does not realize that once he drops dead tonight, you will inherit the entire Whitfield empire as his grieving fiancée, backed by our lawyers.”
“He has been suspicious,” Emily warned, pacing the room. “A stupid maid’s child found Vincenzo’s ledger hidden in the wall. Thomas has it.”
“It does not matter if he has it,” Don Rossi scoffed. “In twenty minutes, his heart will stop. We will secure the ledger in the chaos. The Boston syndicate will be leaderless, and my men will immediately seize control of the building under the guise of protecting you.”
Rosie clamped a hand over her mouth, tears of sheer terror springing to her eyes. They were going to murder Thomas tonight. In front of three hundred guests.
She had to warn him. She had to stop the toast.
May you like
She scrambled backward through the dusty ventilation shaft, moving as fast as she dared without making a sound. She reached the junction that dropped into the main pantry behind the ballroom kitchens. She kicked the grate loose and dropped onto a stack of flour sacks, ignoring the sharp pain in her ankle.
She sprinted through the bustling kitchen, ignoring the shouts of the head chef, and burst through the swinging doors into the grand ballroom.
