Chapter 2 - The Crimson ThreadMorning broke over Manhattan like a bruise—streaks of violet and deep, angry red slicing through the gray autumn smog.
In the master wing on the third floor, Vanessa Rourke stood before her vanity mirror, fastening a pair of diamond-encrusted drop earrings. Her reflection was breathtaking, cold, and entirely calculated. She adjusted the collar of her silk robe and picked up her phone, dialing a private, encrypted number that bypassed the mansion’s internal switchboard.
The phone rang twice before a low, strained voice answered.
"Talk."
"Daniel," Vanessa murmured, her eyes narrowing as she watched herself in the glass. "We have a problem."
"What kind of problem?" Dr. Keene’s voice sounded ragged, like a man who hadn't slept in forty-eight hours. "I told you, the bloodwork looks clean. The federal inspectors signed off on his quarterly health audit yesterday."
"It's not the federal inspectors," Vanessa hissed, walking to her bedroom door to ensure it was locked. "It's the maid's kid."
A pause crackled over the line. "The three-year-old?"
"She was in the library yesterday afternoon while you were packing your bag. You dropped a tablet. The girl picked it up."
The sound of sharp intake of breath echoed through the receiver. "Are you certain?"
"She slipped it into her pocket. Lorenzo saw it. He looked... different last night, Daniel. He wasn't yelling, he wasn't breaking things. He was quiet. And when a man like Lorenzo Bellandi goes quiet, people start dying."
"I'll handle it," Keene said quickly, panic leaking through his professional veneer. "I'll go to the mansion this morning. I'll demand a comprehensive sweep of the grounds, claim we lost a hazardous compound—"
"No," Vanessa interrupted, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "If you panic now, he'll smell it. Let him make the first move. Just make sure your backup supplies are clean. If Lorenzo traces this back to you, we are both dead. You understand me? Both of us."
She ended the call and tossed her phone onto the velvet duvet.
Downstairs, Sophie Carter was already scrubbing the marble tiles of the grand foyer. Her knees ached, her palms were raw from industrial lye, but her mind was entirely fixed on her daughter. Mia was sitting quietly in the breakfast nook, eating a bowl of oatmeal while carefully feeding small pieces of banana to a stuffed rabbit named Mr. Whiskers.
Sophie walked over, kneeling beside the small chair and gently brushing a stray lock of chestnut hair from her daughter’s forehead.
"Sweetheart," Sophie whispered, her voice tight with anxiety. "Did you take something from the library yesterday? Mr. Bellandi’s study?"
Mia looked up, her huge brown eyes blinking innocently. "I found a little white candy on the rug, Mommy. I gave it to Uncle Lorenzo."
Sophie’s heart slammed against her ribs. She grabbed her daughter’s shoulders, her grip a little too tight before she caught herself and softened her touch. "Mia, listen to me. You must never, ever touch things on the floor in that house. Especially not in the library. Do you promise Mommy?"
"Is Uncle Lorenzo going to be mad at me?" Mia asked, her lower lip trembling.
"No," a deep, gravelly voice echoed from the archway.
Sophie gasped, standing up so fast the room spun.
May you like
Lorenzo sat in his wheelchair, his powerful arms propelling the heavy wheels smoothly across the marble floor. He had stopped just three feet away. His dark eyes weren't looking at Sophie; they were fixed entirely on the little girl.
"He's not mad at you, princess," Lorenzo said softly, a ghost of a smile touching the corner of his mouth. "In fact... I think you might be the best doctor in New York."
