Chapter 3 - THE HOUSEKEEPER’S WARNING
The silence in the small nursing station stretched tight as a piano wire.
I slowly lowered my hand away from the scanner, my fingers closing around the specimen bag hidden in my pocket. Edna didn't move. She stood under the dim overhead light, looking less like a domestic employee and more like an old soldier guarding a gate she had sworn never to abandon.
“The scanner beeped, Mrs. Hollis,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I was checking the refill lot numbers because Mr. Alfieri seemed unusually uncoordinated after his evening dose.”
Edna stepped into the room, her footsteps completely silent on the carpet. She set the silver tray on the counter, right beside the open medication log.
“Nico Alfieri is a proud man,” Edna whispered, her eyes softening just a fraction. “Too proud for his own good. But he is also surrounded by wolves who are very eager to divide his father’s estate before the ink on the merger contract is dry. If you go waving computer printouts around this house, nobody will thank you. In fact, you’ll find yourself out on the highway before dawn with your medical license questioned and your bank account frozen.”
“Are you threatening me?” I asked, meeting her gaze directly.
“I’m protecting you,” she corrected sharply. “The last three nurses didn't leave because they couldn't handle the physical therapy. They left because they started asking questions about the pharmacy deliveries that come through the back service gate on Friday nights—deliveries that never touch Dr. Vance’s desk.”
My breath hitched. Friday nights. That was when Camille always visited for dinner.
“Who signs for those deliveries?” I asked.
Edna looked toward the dark hallway leading to the west wing before answering in a bare whisper. “Camille’s personal assistant. And sometimes… Uncle Sal.”
Before I could press her further, a low, mechanical whir echoed from the master bedroom down the hall. Nico’s motorized wheelchair was moving. A second later, his dark silhouette appeared in the doorway, his broad shoulders tense, his jaw set like granite.
“Is there a problem out here?” Nico asked, his voice cutting through the heavy air like a scalpel.
“No problem at all, Mr. Alfieri,” Edna said smoothly, picking up her silver tray. “Nurse Marsh was just finishing her evening checks. I brought you your tea.”
Edna walked past him without another glance, her posture rigid.
Nico watched her go, then turned his dark, intense gaze toward me. He didn't look at the pharmacy scanner, but his eyes dropped to my hand—specifically to the slight bulge in my scrub pocket where the specimen bag rested.
“You’re still wearing your sneakers,” he noted dryly, wheeling himself closer into the light. “Most nurses change into soft shoes after dark.”
“Sneakers are better for running when patients try to sneak out of bed,” I replied, trying to steady my pulse.
“I don’t sneak out of bed, Adeline. I can’t.” The bitterness in his tone was sharp enough to draw blood. He gripped the wooden arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white. “Did Edna tell you to mind your own business? Because that’s the standard welcome speech in this mausoleum.”
“She told me there are wolves,” I said softly.
Nico’s eyes flashed with a sudden, dangerous fire. He reached out and grabbed the edge of the nurse's station counter, pulling his wheelchair an inch closer.
“Let me tell you something about the wolves in this house, Adeline,” he whispered, leaning forward so the overhead light cast sharp shadows across his face. “Camille thinks I’m a broken tool she can use to secure her father’s shipping monopoly. My uncle Sal thinks I’m a liability who should hand over the family ledgers and spend my days in a sanitized cage. But nobody—nobody—expected a girl from Cicero in faded scrubs to look at me and see a human being.”
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He reached up, his large, warm hand suddenly closing over my wrist, stopping me from pulling my hand out of my pocket. His fingers were strong, steady, and entirely too close.
“So don’t play detective in the dark by yourself,” Nico muttered, his voice dropping an octave as he stared straight into my eyes. “Because if you find out who’s been poisoning my evening doses… they won’t just fire you. They’ll bury you.”
