Chapter 4 - The Woman Behind the Glasses
Damian did not confront Serena inside the car.
He waited until the cathedral disappeared behind them.
Then he placed the photograph between them.
"Talk."
Serena stared at Vittorio's image.
"I told you I don't know what it means."
"You know something."
"Yes."
"Then start there."
She looked through the window.
The city moved past in blurred stone and sunlight.
Three motorcycles followed the security vehicle behind them.
Another car led the convoy.
No one could approach without being seen.
Still, Damian had the strange sense that every window in Bellamere was watching.
"Three weeks ago," Serena said, "Vittorio took me to the Bellamere Private Bank."
Damian waited.
"He had a deposit box."
"What's in it?"
"I don't know."
"You were there."
"I wasn't allowed inside."
Damian's jaw hardened.
"Then why take you?"
"He gave me a key."
She reached beneath the neckline of her dress.
A thin chain appeared.
At the end hung a small brass key.
Damian stared.
"You wore that through the wedding?"
"I've worn it since he gave it to me."
"What does it open?"
"The deposit box, I assume."
"You assume?"
"He told me never to use it unless he was dead and you had married me."
Damian went still.
Those were very specific conditions.
"What exactly did he say?"
Serena repeated it.
"When I'm gone, don't open it until Damian chooses you over the chair."
Damian frowned.
"Chooses you over the chair?"
"His words."
"I married you because of the chair."
"Which is why I haven't opened it."
Damian stared at her in disbelief.
"Serena."
"Don't."
"We may have an organized theft operation inside the family."
"I know."
"Someone forged my authorization."
"I know."
"Someone left a photograph implying you're hiding something."
"I know."
"And you have the key to something Vittorio considered important enough to condition on our marriage."
"I know."
"Then we open the box."
"No."
Damian's voice dropped.
"That was not a request."
Serena turned toward him.
"And that is exactly why Vittorio didn't give you the key."
Silence.
The driver looked straight ahead.
Damian fought the instinct to take the key.
It would have been easy.
That realization irritated him.
Serena was physically smaller.
Unarmed.
Dependent on the estate's protection.
Yet she had just told him no without hesitation.
"What does choosing you over the chair mean?" Damian asked.
"I don't know."
"You have a theory."
"I think he wanted to know whether you would protect me even if doing so cost you control."
Damian almost laughed.
"That's absurd."
"Maybe."
"Why would he care?"
Serena looked back toward the photograph.
"Because maybe whatever is inside that box can destroy the empire."
That stopped him.
The car entered the estate gates.
Damian remained silent until they reached the house.
The reception had already begun.
Champagne.
Music.
Politicians.
Business partners.
People smiling as if no one had insulted the bride behind closed doors.
Damian stayed beside Serena.
At first because of the threat.
Then because he noticed how many people approached her with false warmth.
"Serena, darling, congratulations."
"Such a surprise."
"You look... lovely."
Each compliment carried a pause.
Each smile evaluated her.
Serena absorbed all of it without reacting.
Then Conrad Hale approached.
Sixty-three.
Silver hair.
Expensive tuxedo.
He had audited Marchetti Holdings for seventeen years.
"Mrs. Vescari."
Serena's hand tightened around her glass.
Damian noticed.
Hale kissed her cheek.
"Your husband is a fortunate man."
"Thank you."
"Vittorio spoke highly of you."
"Did he?"
"Frequently."
That was a lie.
Serena knew it.
So did Damian.
Vittorio rarely discussed her in public.
Hale smiled.
"I understand you helped him with some private financial matters."
Damian's attention sharpened.
Serena remained calm.
"I helped with many things."
"Of course."
Hale's eyes moved toward the necklace hidden beneath her gown.
Only briefly.
But Serena saw it.
"So sad about his passing," Hale continued. "Unexpected."
"Was it?"
Hale's smile faltered.
Damian looked at Serena.
She sipped champagne.
Hale excused himself two sentences later.
"You did that deliberately," Damian murmured.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He looked at the key."
Damian glanced toward Hale's retreating back.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"Then he knows about the box."
"Maybe."
Damian called his security chief.
"Keep Hale inside the estate."
The man nodded.
Serena touched Damian's arm.
"Don't."
He looked down.
"If you detain him, he'll know we're suspicious."
"We are suspicious."
"But he doesn't know how much we know."
Damian disliked being corrected.
He disliked even more that she was right.
"Fine."
They continued through the reception.
Lucian waited near the terrace.
He raised his glass as they approached.
"Cousin."
Damian stopped.
"Lucian."
His eyes moved toward Serena.
"Cousin's wife."
"Careful," Damian said.
Lucian smiled.
"I was going to say she looks beautiful."
Serena spoke before Damian could.
"Thank you."
Lucian studied her.
"Marriage suits you."
"It's been three hours."
"Fast results."
Damian stepped closer.
But Serena remained where she was.
"Did Vittorio ever mention Bellamere Private Bank to you?" she asked.
Lucian's smile disappeared for exactly one second.
Then returned.
"No."
Serena nodded.
"Interesting."
Lucian leaned toward her.
"Was that supposed to mean something?"
"No."
She walked away.
Damian followed.
Once they were out of earshot, he murmured, "You're enjoying this."
"A little."
It was the first time Serena had admitted anything close to pleasure.
Damian almost smiled.
The reception ended at midnight.
By one, the estate was quiet.
Damian's security team reviewed every camera.
The envelope at the cathedral had been placed beneath the wiper during the ceremony.
The person wore maintenance clothing.
Face obscured.
No identification.
At two, Damian entered Vittorio's old study.
Serena was already there.
Still in her wedding dress.
Her shoes lay beneath the desk.
Ledgers surrounded her.
"What are you doing?"
"Working."
"You got married today."
"So did you."
"I'm aware."
"Then why are you surprised?"
Damian loosened his collar.
"I thought brides slept on their wedding night."
"I thought mafia bosses celebrated."
"Apparently we both married poorly."
Serena looked up.
Then laughed.
Small.
Unexpected.
Damian stared.
It transformed her.
Not because she became prettier.
Because she became visible in a way he had not allowed himself to see.
She noticed his expression.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"I'm thinking."
"That usually worries people."
"Noted."
He sat across from her.
"What did you find?"
Serena's smile disappeared.
"Conrad Hale approved the external audits covering the missing transfers."
"That makes him either incompetent or involved."
"He's not incompetent."
"And Bellini?"
"Several shell companies used his freight routes."
"Lucian?"
"Still indirect."
Damian rubbed his jaw.
"We need the bank box."
"No."
"You're impossible."
"Vittorio made the condition for a reason."
"Vittorio is dead."
The words landed badly.
Serena lowered her eyes.
Damian regretted them immediately.
Again.
He was starting to dislike how often that happened around her.
"Serena."
"I'm tired."
She closed the ledger.
"I'm going to my room."
Damian stood.
"Take security."
"I'm walking fifty feet down a hallway."
"Take security."
Her expression said no.
His said non-negotiable.
Serena sighed.
"Fine."
They stepped into the corridor.
The lights went out.
Complete darkness.
Damian moved instantly.
He pulled Serena behind him.
A crash came from the staircase.
Footsteps.
Running.
Damian drew his weapon.
"Stay behind me."
"Gladly."
Emergency lights flickered red.
A figure moved at the end of the hall.
Damian fired once.
The person disappeared through a side door.
Security rushed upward.
Then Serena gasped.
Damian turned.
Her necklace was gone.
The chain had been cut cleanly from her neck.
The key was gone.
Someone had not come to kill them.
May you like
Someone had come for the bank box.
And whoever it was had known Serena was wearing the key.
