Chapter 2 - THE DEADBOLT AND THE BLUE BLANKET
Forty pairs of eyes were fixed on me. The silence in the grand dining room was so absolute that I could hear the faint ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the hallway. Luca Moretti hadn't moved. His dark, intense gaze was locked onto my face, waiting for an answer that could tear his entire world apart. “Emily,” he repeated, his voice dangerously low. “What exactly did you see in that guest bedroom yesterday?” My hands trembled against the folds of my dark cotton skirt. I looked at Vanessa. Her perfect red lips were parted in sheer terror. The arrogant, cruel woman who had just tried to humiliate me in front of Chicago's elite was gone. In her place stood someone who realized the ground was crumbling beneath her designer heels. “Don't say a word, Emily,” Vanessa hissed, stepping toward me. “You are dismissed. Get out of this house.” Luca didn't even look at her. He simply raised his right hand. Instantly, three men in dark suits stepped out of the shadows near the kitchen doors. They were Luca's personal security. They moved silently, stepping between Vanessa and me. “Speak, Emily,” Luca commanded gently. “Nobody in this room will hurt you. You have my word.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. I thought about my mother, lying in her hospital bed. I thought about the fear of losing my income. But looking at Luca's devastated face, and Natalie's tear-streaked cheeks, I knew the truth was more important than my paycheck. “Yesterday afternoon,” I began, my voice shaking in the cavernous room, “Mrs. Bellini ordered me to prepare the east wing guest suite. The one at the end of the hall that is always kept locked.” Luca nodded slowly. “Go on.” “She handed me a set of keys. But when I got to the door, I noticed something wrong. A brass deadbolt had been installed.” I paused, taking a breath. “But it wasn't on the inside of the door, sir. It was on the outside. It was designed to keep someone locked in, not to keep people out.” A collective gasp rippled through the dinner guests. Vanessa’s face turned the color of ash. “She’s lying!” Vanessa shrieked, her voice echoing off the crystal chandeliers. “She’s a disgruntled employee making up stories because I fired her!” “I never fired her,” Luca stated coldly. “Keep talking, Emily.” “I unlocked the door and went inside,” I continued, my confidence growing as I remembered the strange details. “The windows had been screwed shut. The heavy curtains were nailed to the frames. It felt like a prison cell.” Natalie let out a choked sob, covering her face with her hands. “But that wasn't the strangest part,” I said softly. Luca stepped closer to me. The scent of expensive cologne and sheer danger radiated from him. “What else, Emily?” “On the nightstand, there was a medical tray. It had a heavy leather strap, the kind used for restraints in a hospital. And there was a glass bottle of pills. The label was peeled off, but underneath it, there was a pharmacy sticker.” “What did the sticker say?” Luca asked. “It said: Administer two tablets daily to manage severe memory loss and agitation. Patient Jane Doe.” The dining room erupted into frantic whispers. Guests were looking at Vanessa with undisguised horror. “You built a cage in my house,” Luca whispered, finally turning to look at his fiancée. “Luca, darling, you have to listen to me,” Vanessa pleaded, her hands reaching out for him. “Caroline is sick! When I found out she was alive, I wanted to help her! I was going to surprise you!” “You kept my wife locked in a room and drugged her?” Luca roared, the sheer volume of his voice making the crystal glasses on the table vibrate. “She doesn't know who she is!” Vanessa cried defensively. “She’s completely lost her mind, Luca! If I had just brought her to you, it would have broken your heart! I was having a private doctor treat her first!” Natalie stood up, her chair scraping violently against the hardwood floor. “You lied to me!” Natalie screamed at Vanessa. “You told me Caroline was living in a private facility! You told me if I came here and played the part of the new maid, you would let me see her! You never told me she was in this house!” Luca’s jaw clenched so tightly a muscle ticked in his cheek. He looked at his head of security. “Marco. Clear the room. Everyone leaves. Now.” The dinner guests didn't need to be told twice. Forty of Chicago's wealthiest socialites scrambled from their chairs, abandoning their half-eaten meals and expensive champagne. Within three minutes, the dining room was completely empty, save for Luca, Vanessa, Natalie, myself, and the guards. “Marco,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a terrifying calm. “Take Vanessa’s phone. Lock down the gates. Nobody leaves the estate.” Vanessa panicked. She lunged toward the hallway, but Marco caught her by the arm, easily subduing her. “Get your hands off me!” she screamed, struggling against the large man. Luca ignored her. He turned to me. “Emily. The room you prepared. Is she in there now?” I shook my head. “No, sir. The room was empty when I cleaned it. Mrs. Bellini said the guest was arriving tonight.” Luca turned back to Vanessa. “Where is my wife?” Vanessa stopped struggling. A cruel, desperate smile twisted her lips. She realized she had lost the battle, but she still held the ultimate card. “If you hurt me, Luca,” Vanessa sneered, “you will never find her. The doctor who has her is loyal to me. If I don't check in with him by midnight, he’s going to put her on a private plane to South America. She will disappear forever.” Luca took a step toward her, his eyes burning with a lethal fury. “You are going to tell me where she is, Vanessa. Or I swear to God, you will beg for mercy before the sun comes up.” Before Vanessa could answer, a loud, sharp sound echoed through the mansion. It was the heavy brass knocker on the front door. Three loud, deliberate knocks. Everyone froze. Marco looked at Luca. “Sir, the gates are locked. Nobody should have been able to get onto the property.” Luca’s eyes narrowed. He looked at me. “Emily. Stay behind me.” My heart hammered against my ribs as I stepped behind Luca’s broad shoulders. Marco drew a dark handgun from beneath his jacket, keeping it aimed at the floor. We walked slowly out of the dining room and into the grand foyer. The massive oak front doors stood tall and imposing. The knocking came again. Bang. Bang. Bang. “Open it,” Luca ordered Marco. Marco grabbed the heavy iron handle and pulled the door open. Standing on the front steps, illuminated by the harsh yellow glow of the porch lights, wasn't a doctor. It wasn't Caroline. It was an elderly man in a tattered gray coat, holding the hand of a five-year-old boy. The boy had dark, sweeping hair. And when he looked up, his eyes were the exact, piercing shade of emerald green as Luca Moretti’s. The elderly man held out a small, folded piece of paper. “I was told to bring the boy to this address,” the old man rasped. “His mother said to tell you... time has run out.”
