Chapter 2 - The Eavesdropper
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The music swelled as Alessandro moved through the crowd. He kissed the cheek of a senator’s wife, shook hands with a federal prosecutor, and caught Genevieve by the waist as he passed her.
“Everything perfectly, darling?” Genevieve asked, her hand resting lightly on his chest.
“Perfect,” Alessandro smiled. It was the smile he used in boardrooms right before he gutted a rival company. “I need to check on the catering staff. Give me five minutes.”
He walked away before she could reply. The heavy mahogany doors of his private office clicked shut behind him, sealing off the noise of the gala. Fatima was standing in the center of the room, holding Amara tightly against her chest. The housekeeper was trembling.
“Sit down, Fatima,” Alessandro said. He did not go to his desk. He leaned against the heavy oak door, crossing his arms. “I am not angry. But I need to know exactly what your daughter heard.”
Fatima swallowed hard, her eyes darting toward the security cameras in the corner of the ceiling.
“Mr. Rienzi, please. I need this job. She is just a child, she has an active imagination—”
“Fatima,” Alessandro interrupted, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. “If you lie to me right now, you won't have to worry about a job. You will have to worry about how to leave Chicago. What did she hear?”
The housekeeper squeezed her eyes shut. A single tear escaped.
“I was cleaning the master suite yesterday afternoon,” Fatima whispered. “Miss Genevieve was in the adjoining dressing room. She thought the suite was empty. She was on the phone.”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened. “And?”
“Amara was sitting under the desk, playing with her toy. I didn't realize she was listening. Miss Genevieve was speaking to a man. She sounded different, Mr. Rienzi. Not soft. Cold.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“She said the biometric lock wouldn't be an issue,” Fatima recounted, her voice shaking violently. “She said, ‘The fingerprint is easy. The real problem is the encrypted ledger. But by the time he says I do, we’ll have full access to the offshore accounts. The idiot trusts me completely.’”
Alessandro felt the air leave his lungs. It was a physical blow, sharper than any knife he had taken in his youth.
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“Did she say a name?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” Amara suddenly piped up from her mother’s arms. The little girl looked at Alessandro with wide, innocent eyes. “She said Silas. She told Silas to bring the poison.”
