Chapter 5 - The Night Domenico Died
Valentina hit the floor before the echo died.
Nico’s flashlight rolled across concrete, throwing wild circles against the walls.
“Sound off.”
“I’m good,” Nico said.
“Tomas?”
“Good.”
Marco answered last.
“I’m here.”
The emergency lights flickered red.
A bullet had struck the steel box behind Valentina.
Not her.
The hidden side door stood open.
Someone had used the blackout to escape.
Or enter.
Valentina turned on Marco.
“You knew that door existed.”
“I told you not to move because I heard someone.”
“You were standing beside the stairs.”
“I was.”
“Now you’re six feet from me.”
His eyes hardened.
“You want to arrest me, arrest me. But somebody just fired at all of us.”
Back upstairs, Valentina doubled the guards around Lily and ordered Gerald brought to the dining room.
The old household nurse, Teresa Molloy, was dragged from retirement by a phone call and arrived forty minutes later wearing house slippers under a wool coat.
She did not want coffee.
She wanted to know why Valentina was asking about Domenico’s last dinner.
“Because you were there.”
Teresa looked at Marco.
“I was.”
“What did he eat?”
“Almost nothing.”
“Drink?”
Her fingers tightened around her handbag.
“Red wine.”
“Who poured it?”
Teresa looked down.
Valentina repeated the question.
“Marco.”
The room changed.
Marco leaned back in his chair.
“Everybody poured wine that night.”
Teresa shook her head.
“You poured his.”
Gerald stared at the table.
Valentina noticed.
“Gerald.”
He said nothing.
Teresa continued.
“Your father made a face after the second sip. He said it tasted bitter.”
Valentina’s skin went cold.
“He complained of chest pain twenty minutes later.”
“Where was the bottle?”
Teresa pointed at Gerald.
“Gone before the ambulance left.”
Valentina turned.
Gerald lifted both hands.
“I was told to clear the table.”
“By who?”
He looked at Marco.
Marco’s face stayed flat.
Teresa interrupted.
“There was one more thing.”
Valentina faced her.
“Your father kept saying, ‘Not the red one.’”
“What did that mean?”
“I never knew.”
Tomas was already searching the old wine inventory.
Five minutes later, he came back carrying a printed record.
“One bottle from that dinner was not destroyed.”
Valentina took the page.
Transferred to off-site storage.
Authorized by Gerald Carbone.
She looked at her uncle.
Gerald’s lips trembled once.
“You kept it.”
“I moved it.”
“Why?”
“Because he told me to.”
“Marco?”
Gerald shook his head.
“Your father.”
Valentina froze.
Gerald leaned toward her.
“Domenico knew the wine was wrong before he died.”
Then Gerald’s eyes slid to Marco.
May you like
“And Marco told me your father was already dead before the ambulance even arrived.”
