Chapter 3 - The Shadow in the East Wing
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The rain did not stop for two days. It pounded against the limestone walls of the Moretti estate, mirroring the relentless tension brewing inside. Elina tried her best to keep Mia confined to their small room in the servant’s quarters, but keeping a three-year-old locked away was a losing battle.
On Saturday morning, a sharp knock on her door made Elina drop the towels she was folding.
She opened it to find Dante Moretti standing in the narrow hallway. He looked completely out of place in the modest servant's wing, his dark, commanding aura consuming the small space.
"Mr. Moretti," Elina stammered, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Bring the child," he commanded quietly. "I need her in the east wing."
Elina’s stomach dropped to the floor. "Sir, please. She’s just a little girl. She doesn't know anything about your business."
Dante’s eyes softened just a fraction, revealing a rare crack in his terrifying facade. "I am not going to hurt her, Elina. I need her to look at him again. Nina has reduced his medications. I need to know if she sees what the doctors are missing."
Reluctantly, Elina picked up Mia, who was busy trying to put a tiny shoe on a plastic doll. They followed the mafia boss through the sprawling, heavily guarded mansion. The men in dark suits parted silently for them, their eyes lingering on the highly unusual sight of their ruthless leader escorting a maid and a toddler.
When they entered Matteo’s room, Nina Patel was waiting with her arms crossed.
"The sedatives have been entirely flushed from his system," Nina reported grimly. "If he’s going to wake up, it has to be soon."
Dante ignored the medical charts. He looked down at Mia.
"Mia," Dante said, his voice dropping to a surprisingly gentle pitch. "Can you look at my brother again? Can you tell me if he does the trick with his eyes?"
Mia wiggled out of her mother’s arms and marched right up to the bed. She leaned on her tiptoes, staring intensely at Matteo’s bruised face. The room held its collective breath.
"Wake up, Mr. Sleeping," Mia whispered.
Matteo’s face remained a blank, tragic canvas.
Mia turned to Dante, her lower lip pushing out in a pout. "He’s hiding."
"Hiding?" Dante asked, kneeling down to her level.
"He’s hiding behind his face," she stated matter-of-factly. "He wants to wake up, but the bad man won't let him."
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Dante froze. "What bad man, Mia?"
Mia pointed a chubby finger toward the heavy oak door. "The man with the snake on his hand. He put water in Mr. Sleeping's tube when you were gone."
