Chapter 8 - THE SECOND WEDDING
By three in the morning, the Romano estate no longer looked like a wedding venue.
The flowers remained.
That made it worse.
White roses climbed the staircase where armed officers now stood. Champagne glasses still sat on tables beside evidence markers. The overturned coat rack had been moved, but a broken wooden hanger remained beneath the television stand.
Valeria’s wedding ring was gone.
She asked Samuel Pike where it went.
He looked terrified.
“I don’t know.”
“Who was in this room after I left?”
“Police, security, Mr. Bianchi’s people.”
“Anyone else?”
He hesitated.
“Mrs. Romano.”
“Bianca?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“About forty minutes ago.”
Valeria turned.
Bianca had left the hospital?
Carlo called her.
No answer.
Luca checked with the officers at the estate entrance.
Bianca’s car had entered at 2:31.
It had not left.
Valeria felt dread settle in her stomach.
“Find her.”
The search lasted six minutes.
They found Bianca in the bridal suite upstairs.
Alive.
Sitting on the edge of the bed.
Holding Valeria’s wedding ring.
She looked up when Valeria entered.
“I thought you might want this.”
Valeria stared.
“Why did you leave the hospital?”
“Because Gregory was taken.”
“How did you know?”
“I saw the blood.”
“You should have called me.”
Bianca laughed softly.
“When has anyone in this family called the right person first?”
Valeria had no answer.
Bianca held out the ring.
Valeria did not take it.
“Keep it.”
“No.”
“Throw it away.”
“It isn’t mine.”
“Neither is the marriage.”
Bianca closed her fingers around the ring.
“You still love him.”
Valeria’s expression hardened.
“Do not tell me what I feel.”
“I’m not. I’m telling you what it cost me to confuse love with permission.”
Valeria looked at her.
Bianca’s eyes were tired.
“I loved Frank,” she said. “I let that become an excuse for every silence. Every compromise. Every time he said the family needed something ugly, I told myself the man underneath was still good.”
“Was he?”
“Sometimes.”
“That is not enough.”
“No.”
Bianca looked at the ring in her palm.
“That is what took me forty years to learn.”
Luca appeared in the doorway.
“We have movement downstairs.”
Valeria turned.
The televisions in the ballroom had come on by themselves.
Every screen displayed a countdown.
00:27:14.
Twenty-seven minutes.
Under the timer:
BRING MATTEO TO THE ALTAR.
Valeria’s blood ran cold.
The chapel.
Again.
Matteo came in from the hallway with Miriam.
“He wants the voting release.”
Valeria looked at him.
“Explain.”
Matteo held up the Serra-Romano agreement.
“One section requires my signature as surviving Serra trustee to confirm a permanent transfer after a coercion event.”
“Permanent transfer to whom?”
“Not me. To the independent board.”
“Then why would Victor want you to sign it?”
“He doesn’t. He wants me to sign a substitute.”
Miriam nodded.
“A document that makes him emergency trustee.”
Valeria laughed without humor.
“So we are back to paperwork.”
“Power often is paperwork,” Matteo said.
The timer reached 25:00.
A live video replaced the text.
Gregory appeared on screen.
He was sitting in the hidden room behind the mirror.
The same chair Noah had used.
His good arm was tied to the armrest.
His bandaged shoulder was stained red.
Valeria stopped breathing.
Victor stepped into frame.
“Full circle,” he said.
His smile was gone.
He looked tired now.
Desperate.
More dangerous because of it.
“Valeria. Matteo. Chapel. Ten minutes.”
Valeria moved closer to the screen.
“Where is Daniel?”
Victor’s expression sharpened.
“Why?”
“Because you never move money without him.”
Victor looked off camera.
That was enough.
Daniel was there.
Alive.
Maybe not willing.
“Show him,” Valeria said.
“No.”
“Then you don’t get Matteo.”
Victor laughed.
“You think you’re negotiating?”
“Yes.”
“With what?”
“The only people left who can make your plan legal.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
Valeria continued.
“Gregory’s confession is recorded. Your call at the river house is recorded. The black book is copied. The trust is with counsel. Killing Gregory does not erase any of that.”
Victor leaned close to the camera.
“It changes the story.”
“No. It adds a murder.”
“It creates a vacuum.”
“Not anymore.”
Victor paused.
Valeria felt the room behind her.
Carlo.
Miriam.
Matteo.
Bianca.
Luca.
The capos had returned, one by one, not because Gregory called them but because Carlo had.
Valeria lifted her chin.
“Look at the ballroom feed.”
Victor did.
Samuel switched one camera.
The screen divided.
Victor could see the ballroom.
Twelve senior men standing behind Valeria.
Carlo stepped forward.
“There is no vacuum.”
Victor’s face changed.
Carlo continued.
“Whatever happens to Gregory, you hold no office here.”
One of the capos spoke.
“None.”
Another.
“None.”
Victor’s eyes hardened.
“You old men think votes make you clean?”
Carlo smiled coldly.
“No. We think votes make you unemployed.”
For the first time, Victor looked afraid.
Not enough.
He grabbed Gregory by the hair and pulled his head back.
Valeria’s stomach twisted.
“Ten minutes,” Victor said.
The feed went black.
Luca whispered, “He’s in the house.”
Everyone turned.
“The camera in that hidden room is local. The feed never crossed the public network.”
Samuel nodded rapidly.
“He’s right. That signal is internal.”
Valeria looked upstairs.
“He brought Gregory back here.”
Carlo ordered men to cover exits.
Luca stopped him.
“Careful. Victor knows every service corridor.”
Matteo said, “Not every one.”
They looked at him.
“My brother and I played in this house before the renovation. There is an old priest corridor from the chapel sacristy to the west servants’ stairs.”
Bianca frowned.
“Frank sealed that.”
“Victor thinks he did.”
Valeria stared at Matteo.
“How do you know?”
“I watched the contractor leave the lower panel open because Antonio paid him to.”
Of course Antonio had.
Dead fathers everywhere.
Warnings in walls.
Contingencies in toys.
Valeria was suddenly tired of inheritance.
“We go through the public hallway.”
Luca frowned.
“That gives Victor cameras.”
“Good.”
“What?”
“He expects us to sneak.”
She looked at Samuel.
“Put every camera feed in the estate on the ballroom screens.”
“All of them?”
“All.”
“If Victor sees—”
“That is the point.”
Samuel did it.
Dozens of camera windows filled the televisions.
Hallways.
Kitchen.
Garage.
Library.
Chapel.
Servants’ stairs.
West corridor.
Then one image moved.
Daniel Ruiz.
He was running through the wine cellar.
“No jacket,” Luca said.
“Hands tied,” Miriam added.
Daniel stumbled, slammed against a rack, and looked directly into the camera.
He shouted something.
No audio.
Samuel enlarged the feed.
Daniel mouthed two words.
NOT VICTOR.
Valeria stared.
“What?”
Daniel repeated.
NOT VICTOR.
Then someone stepped into frame behind him.
A gun rose.
The image cut to black.
Bianca screamed.
Samuel hit controls.
Nothing.
The entire security system went dark.
Emergency lights flickered.
Luca drew his weapon.
Carlo’s men spread through the ballroom.
Matteo whispered, “If not Victor, who?”
Valeria thought of the messages.
The anonymous instructions Gregory received.
Phase one failed.
Do not let Valeria leave with the boy.
If she reaches the chapel, everything ends.
Matteo had denied sending them.
Victor had not acted like he knew about the chapel trigger.
Frank had warned against Victor, but not only Victor.
Valeria turned toward Samuel Pike.
The technician stood behind the control station.
Very still.
Too still.
“Samuel.”
His eyes met hers.
Then he ran.
Luca moved, but Samuel hit a switch beneath the console.
Steel fire doors slammed down between the ballroom and the west hall.
People shouted.
Samuel vanished through a service door.
Valeria stared at the closed barrier.
Miriam said, “The technician?”
Matteo looked grim.
“He knew every feed.”
Luca slammed the emergency release.
Locked.
Bianca whispered, “He was hired by Victor.”
Carlo shook his head.
“No. Victor recommended him.”
Valeria corrected him.
“Someone wanted us to think that was the same thing.”
A speaker crackled overhead.
Samuel’s voice filled the ballroom.
Calm now.
No nervousness.
No stammer.
“Mrs. Romano.”
Valeria looked up.
“Samuel.”
“That name will do.”
“What do you want?”
“The same thing everyone wants.”
“Control?”
“No.”
The speaker hissed.
“Correction.”
A new image appeared on the television.
Gregory in the hidden room.
Victor on the floor beside him.
Unconscious.
Daniel tied near the wall.
Samuel walked into frame.
He had a gun.
He looked directly into the camera.
“Victor was never the architect,” he said.
Valeria’s skin turned cold.
“Who are you?”
Samuel smiled.
“Ask Matteo.”
Everyone turned.
Matteo’s face had gone white.
Valeria whispered, “You know him.”
Matteo stared at the screen.
“No.”
“Yes, you do.”
Matteo stepped closer.
His lips parted.
“Elias.”
Samuel’s smile widened.
“Hello, Father.”
Matteo took one involuntary step toward the screen.
“Elias?”
Samuel’s smile disappeared.
For the first time since the ballroom feed had begun, he looked less like a technician and more like a wounded son.
“You recognize me now.”
Matteo gripped the back of a chair.
“I thought—”
“You thought my mother changed my name and disappeared.”
“She did.”
“You thought we died in the apartment fire.”
Matteo went white.
Valeria turned sharply.
“What fire?”
Neither man answered her.
Elias looked straight into the camera.
“The Romanos have spent years deciding which dead people were useful and which living people were inconvenient.”
His gaze shifted back to Matteo.
“You taught me how easy it was to become both.”
The screen flickered.
Behind Elias, Gregory raised his head.
Victor remained unconscious on the floor.
Daniel Ruiz was tied against the wall.
Whatever war had begun with Noah behind the mirror had outgrown Gregory’s original scheme.
Valeria understood that now.
Gregory had lit the match.
May you like
Victor had poured gasoline around the room.
But Elias had been waiting beside the alarm system, deciding when everyone would be forced to see the fire.
