Chapter 8 - THE HOSPITAL STATIONERY
“They lied about the crash.”
Sofia went completely still. She reached out and took the yellowed hospital stationery from June’s trembling hand. As her eyes scanned the faded ink, the matriarch’s formidable composure finally cracked. A sharp intake of breath hissed through her teeth.
“Dear God,” Sofia whispered.
I stepped closer, my heart pounding. “What does it say?”
“The official report said Elena died of internal bleeding from the blunt force trauma of the car accident,” Sofia read, her voice tight with suppressed rage. “But this… this is the original toxicology screen from the ER. It was suppressed.”
June nodded, her eyes heavy with sorrow. “The crash didn't kill her. She was drugged before she ever got behind the wheel. A paralytic.”
The room seemed to drop ten degrees. Elena hadn't lost control of her car on a slick road. Someone had ensured she couldn't steer, couldn't brake, couldn't save herself.
“My husband,” Sofia said, her voice turning to ice. “He ordered the hit on Adrian’s girlfriend. He wanted to eliminate the civilian distraction.”
“No,” June said softly.
The reversal hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.
“Your husband was ruthless, Sofia, but he loved his sons,” June explained, her voice steady. “He was furious about the pregnancy, yes. He wanted to hide the child. But he never would have murdered the woman Adrian loved. He knew it would destroy him.”
“Then who?” Sofia demanded.
June looked toward the corner of the room, where the two guards had left Aunt Evelyn zip-tied to a heavy oak chair. The elderly woman was awake now, feigning a look of confused frailty.
“Ask her,” June said.
Sofia walked slowly across the room, her heels clicking ominously on the hardwood floor. She stopped in front of Evelyn.
“You,” Sofia whispered, the puzzle pieces finally snapping together. “You poisoned my husband. And you drugged Elena.”
Evelyn spat on the floor. The facade of the sweet, cookie-baking aunt vanished instantly, replaced by a venomous, sneering bitterness.
“Someone had to protect the empire!” Evelyn snarled, straining against the plastic ties. “Your husband was getting weak! He was going to let Adrian marry a nobody—a waitress! She would have polluted the bloodline. And when he found out what I did to her, he was going to kill me. So I slipped the digitalis in his tea first. I saved this family!”
Smack.
Sofia struck Evelyn across the face with the back of her hand. The sound echoed sharply off the high ceilings.
“You are a parasite,” Sofia said, her voice dangerously calm. “You killed my husband. You murdered the mother of my grandson. You will spend the rest of your miserable life in a windowless cell in a private facility I control. You will simply cease to exist.”
Evelyn began to scream, thrashing in the chair, but Sofia waved a hand. The guards dragged the chair, with Evelyn still attached, out the side door.
The poison had finally been extracted from the Moretti house.
Just then, footsteps echoed in the hallway. Soft, hesitant footsteps, accompanied by the heavy, protective tread of Adrian’s boots.
I turned toward the doorway.
Adrian walked in, his eyes red and shining with unshed tears. Holding his left hand was a little boy.
Leo was eight years old, with messy dark hair and big, observant brown eyes. He wore a slightly oversized sweater and clutched a half-eaten chocolate bar in his free hand. He looked around the grand, ruined dining room with wide-eyed wonder, entirely unafraid.
“Margaret, June,” Adrian said, his voice thick with emotion. “I want you to meet my son. Leo.”
June covered her mouth with both hands, letting out a soft sob.
Leo looked at June, his head tilting slightly. “You’re the lady from the pictures. Auntie Sarah said you were my fairy godmother.”
June fell to her knees, opening her arms. Leo didn't hesitate. He let go of Adrian’s hand and ran to the housekeeper, wrapping his small arms around her neck.
“I’m so glad you’re home, little one,” June cried, burying her face in his hair.
Adrian watched them, a profound peace settling over his weary features. He looked at his mother, then at me.
“The estate is a mess,” Adrian said, gesturing to the splintered doors, the broken glass, and the spilled wine. “The business is fractured. Daniel is gone.”
“We will rebuild,” Sofia said, stepping forward to place a hand on her son’s shoulder. “But this time, we rebuild in the light. No more secrets. No more shadows.”
Adrian nodded. He looked at June, who was wiping chocolate off Leo’s cheek with her apron.
“June,” Adrian said. “About the cottage.”
June froze, looking up nervously. “Sir?”
Adrian smiled, a true, genuine smile that reached his eyes for the first time in eight years.
“Pack your things,” Adrian said.
Before June’s face could fall, Adrian held up his hand.
“You’re not staying in the cottage,” he continued. “You’re moving into the east wing of the main house. The suite with the balcony overlooking the gardens. Leo is going to need a grandmother close by. And this family needs you exactly where you belong.”
May you like
“At the table,” I whispered.
Adrian looked at me and nodded. “At the table.”
