Chapter 2 - Unstitching the Lies
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The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush glass.
Emma Bennett pulled Lily tightly against her chest, wrapping her arms around her daughter to shield her from the tension suffocating the room. She knew the men who walked these halls; she knew what happened when Alessandro Moretti discovered a threat inside his gates.
Alessandro picked up the tiny silver cylinder with two fingers. It was warm to the touch, proof that it was actively drawing power and transmitting data.
He turned slowly toward Victoria.
"You said you bought this in Milan last month," Alessandro said, his tone conversational, almost pleasant.
Victoria swallowed hard, her hand clutching the silk lapel of her robe.
"Yes! A small antique shop near the Galleria," she said, her words coming out faster now. "I saw it in the window and thought of Lily! I didn't inspect the interior, Alessandro! The shopkeeper must have sold me a tampered item—"
"My private jet cleared customs in Milan four weeks ago," Alessandro interrupted smoothly. "My manifest records every item brought aboard. Three trunks from Chanel, two cases of wine, and a crate of marble tiles for your bathroom. There was no doll on that plane, Victoria."
Victoria’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes darted toward the door, where Rocco and Bruno stood with their arms crossed over their broad chests.
"I... I had it shipped separately!" she stammered.
"No, you didn't," Alessandro said. He stepped closer to her, his towering six-foot-four frame completely blocking the light from the hallway. "You bought this doll three weeks ago at a local hobby shop in downtown Chicago. I know because my intelligence team logs every card transaction linked to my primary account."
He leaned down until his face was inches from hers.
"Why would you lie about a toy, Victoria?"
"Alessandro, please," she whimpered, her polished mask crumbling completely. "You’re confusing things—"
"Marco," Alessandro called out over his shoulder. "Trace the signal frequency. Where is this bug transmitting?"
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Marco pulled out his frequency analyzer, his fingers tapping rapidly against the screen. Within five seconds, a red locator dot flickered onto the digital blueprint of the estate.
"It’s not transmitting outside the walls, sir," Marco said, looking up with dark eyes. "The receiver is inside the guesthouse."
