Chapter 3 - The Fiancée Returns With a Knife|
Camila Rinaldi returned to the Falcone mansion at nine the next morning wearing a cream-colored suit, diamond earrings, and an expression of wounded dignity.
She did not come alone.
Her father, Victor Rinaldi, walked beside her, accompanied by two attorneys and a bodyguard who carried himself like a man accustomed to being obeyed.
Matteo received them in the formal sitting room.
Norah was in the kitchen when the housekeeper, Mrs. Alvarez, hurried inside and told her to stay away from the main hall.
“Miss Rinaldi is back,” the older woman whispered.
“I assumed she would be.”
“You don't understand. Her father has arrived.”
Norah dried her hands.
“Then Matteo can decide what to do.”
Mrs. Alvarez glanced toward the doorway.
“You're not afraid?”
“I am.”
“Then why do you look so calm?”
“Because being frightened doesn't mean I have to make their decisions for them.”
The housekeeper looked at her for a long moment.
Then she quietly said, “I should have come when I heard you yesterday.”
Norah stopped.
Mrs. Alvarez's eyes were wet.
“I heard the shouting. I heard the crop. I told myself it wasn't my place. I've worked here for twenty years, and I was afraid of losing everything.”
Norah's anger rose, but it was not as simple as she wanted it to be.
“I understand why you were afraid,” she said. “That doesn't mean what happened was acceptable.”
“No. It doesn't.”
Mrs. Alvarez lowered her head.
“I won't make that mistake again.”
In the sitting room, Camila had already begun her performance.
“She assaulted my character,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “She stole a confidential document, entered Matteo's private rooms, and then manipulated him by pretending to be a victim.”
Matteo sat opposite her.
“Do you have proof?”
“Her behavior proves enough.”
“Behavior isn't evidence.”
Victor Rinaldi leaned forward.
“You are allowing a domestic employee to interfere with a marriage that has already been agreed upon by our families.”
“Then perhaps our families should have considered the kind of person they were asking me to marry.”
Camila's smile disappeared.
Victor's expression hardened.
“You are making a mistake, Matteo. The Rinaldi alliance protects your southern routes. It guarantees peace between our people. Do you intend to throw that away over a servant?”
“No. I'm reconsidering the alliance because my fiancée committed an assault inside my home.”
Camila's voice dropped.
“You cannot prove anything.”
Matteo placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Camila entering his study two days before the memorandum disappeared.
“I don't need to prove the assault to question your access to the document.”
For the first time, Victor looked uncertain.
Camila recovered quickly.
“I entered your study because you asked me to retrieve the blue folder.”
“I asked you to retrieve a folder from the conference room.”
“You must have forgotten.”
“I don't forget conversations that concern my security.”
A silence followed.
Then Victor stood.
“This discussion is over. Camila will remain here until we resolve the matter.”
“No,” Matteo said.
Victor stared at him.
“You cannot dismiss a Rinaldi woman as though she were hired help.”
“I can remove anyone from my home.”
“And what happens to our agreement?”
Matteo rose.
“That depends on what your daughter has done.”
Camila's face turned white.
“You would choose her over me?”
“I choose evidence over excuses.”
She looked toward the doorway and spotted Norah standing there with a tray. Her eyes narrowed.
“You.”
Norah did not move.
Camila crossed the room.
“Tell him what you stole.”
“Nothing.”
Camila slapped the tray from Norah's hands.
Porcelain shattered across the floor.
“Liar.”
Matteo stepped between them.
“Touch her again, and you'll leave this house under guard.”
Camila laughed, but the sound trembled.
“You think she's innocent? Ask her what happened to Elizabeth Bennett. Ask her why her mother was in that warehouse the night Adrian died.”
Norah went still.
Matteo noticed.
“What do you know about Elizabeth?”
Camila's eyes flashed with triumph.
“More than she does.”
“Then tell us.”
“I would love to. Unfortunately, the only person who has the proof is dead.”
Norah's voice came out barely above a whisper.
“Who?”
Camila leaned close enough for only Norah to hear.
“The man who killed your mother.”
Then she straightened and addressed Matteo.
“Perhaps you should reconsider your decision. I can help you find the memorandum. I can help you protect your empire. All you need to do is send the maid away.”
Matteo did not hesitate.
“Get out.”
Victor grabbed his daughter's arm.
“This isn't finished.”
“No,” Matteo replied. “It isn't.”
As the Rinaldis left, Norah remained beside the broken porcelain.
Matteo crouched and picked up a fragment before she could reach for it.
“Leave that. Someone will clean it up.”
Norah stared at him.
“That's what you said yesterday about the doctor. You keep making decisions for me and calling them protection.”
He set the fragment down.
“You're right.”
She had expected an argument.
The simple admission unsettled her.
“I don't know who killed my mother,” she said. “I don't know why she was connected to your brother. And I don't know what Camila meant about the warehouse.”
“Then we'll find out.”
“Together?”
“If you choose to.”
Norah studied him.
“There's something I haven't told you.”
He waited.
“The memorandum isn't the only thing missing from your study.”
“What else?”
“A small brass key. I saw it on your desk the day I found the photograph.”
Matteo frowned.
“I keep several keys in that room.”
“This one had a number engraved on it. Seventeen.”
His expression changed instantly.
He turned toward his study.
“Stay here.”
Norah folded her arms.
“Ask me, Matteo.”
He stopped, then looked back.
“Will you come with me?”
“Yes.”
Inside the study, he opened a hidden compartment beneath the desk. The space was empty.
Norah leaned closer.
“What did that key open?”
Matteo's answer was quiet.
“A deposit box at a bank that closed eleven years ago.”
May you like
He looked at her.
“My brother opened it the day before the fire.”
