Chapter 2 - The Red Glass
Nico reached the hallway just as Marcella disappeared around the staircase.
“Marcella!”
She kept running.
Rafe followed Nico.
Two guards stayed with Vivia and Dante inside the library.
Marcella reached the bottom of the stairs.
Her heel slipped.
She caught the railing and continued toward the east wing.
Nico knew exactly where she was going.
Their father's old study.
The room had remained locked since Salvatore Bellandi died.
Only Nico and Marcella possessed keys.
Nico reached the corridor seconds behind her.
Marcella had already opened the study.
She slammed the door.
Nico hit it with his shoulder.
“Open the door.”
Furniture scraped across the other side.
Rafe arrived.
“She barricaded it.”
Nico stepped back.
Rafe and Nico struck the door together.
The old lock tore from the frame.
They entered.
Marcella was standing beside the fireplace.
Something red was in her hand.
Nico stopped.
He recognized it immediately.
A crystal whiskey glass.
His father had owned a set of six.
Deep ruby glass imported from Venice.
Salvatore drank from them every evening.
After his death, five glasses remained in the cabinet.
Nico had never wondered about the sixth.
Marcella raised it above the stone fireplace.
“Don't.”
Marcella threw it.
Rafe lunged.
The glass struck the edge of the fireplace and shattered.
Nico stared at the fragments.
Marcella backed away.
“There.”
Her voice shook.
“Whatever story Elena created about that glass is gone.”
Rafe crouched.
He examined a shard.
“There is residue inside.”
Marcella's eyes widened.
Rafe smiled without humor.
“You should have washed it before hiding it for six years.”
Marcella rushed toward the fragments.
Nico blocked her.
She struck his chest.
“Move.”
“No.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
Marcella looked at him.
For a moment, she was no longer the powerful woman who controlled half the family's finances.
She looked like the frightened older sister Nico remembered from childhood.
Then the expression disappeared.
“Elena hated me.”
Nico laughed bitterly.
“So you killed Father?”
“I never said that.”
“She did.”
“Elena said she knew who killed him.”
“And you immediately decided it was me.”
“You just ran across the villa to destroy a glass connected to his death.”
Marcella's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Rafe began collecting fragments using a handkerchief.
Marcella watched him.
“You send those to a laboratory, and I promise you will regret it.”
Rafe looked up.
“That sounded remarkably like a threat.”
“It is a warning.”
Nico stepped closer.
“Who are you protecting?”
Marcella looked at him.
Nico saw the answer before she spoke.
She was protecting someone.
That realization was somehow worse.
A security guard appeared at the broken doorway.
“Mr. Bellandi.”
Nico turned.
“We found something on one of the detained men's phones.”
“What?”
“Photographs of Miss Vivia.”
Nico's blood turned cold.
The guard continued.
“School entrance.”
“Playground.”
“Your residence.”
“And the cemetery where Mrs. Bellandi is buried.”
Nico's hands curled into fists.
“How long?”
“At least eight months.”
Marcella closed her eyes.
Nico turned toward her.
“You knew.”
She didn't answer.
“You knew someone was watching my daughter.”
Marcella whispered.
“I told them never to touch her.”
Rafe stood.
“Who is them?”
Marcella realized what she had said.
Nico grabbed her arm.
“Who?”
She pulled away.
“Let me go.”
“You don't get to demand anything anymore.”
“Nico, listen to me.”
“I have spent eleven months believing my wife died in an accident.”
His voice broke for the first time.
“I spent eleven months telling my daughter her mother didn't suffer.”
Marcella stared at him.
“I said I was sorry.”
Nico's eyes darkened.
“You have never once said you were sorry.”
Marcella stopped breathing.
Rafe slowly turned toward her.
Nico continued.
“Not after Elena died.”
“Not at the funeral.”
“Not when Vivia cried herself to sleep in my room for six weeks.”
“You never said it.”
Marcella whispered.
“I didn't mean—”
“You just did.”
Nico stepped backward as though touching her disgusted him.
Rafe's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression immediately changed.
“What do you mean she's gone?”
Nico turned.
“Who?”
Rafe listened.
Then he looked toward Nico.
“Vivia.”
Nico was already running.
He reached the library.
One guard was unconscious near the window.
The second was kneeling beside him.
Dante stood in the center of the room.
His face was white.
Nico searched desperately.
“Vivia!”
No answer.
The old dress was lying on the floor.
Nico grabbed Dante by the jacket.
“Where is she?”
Dante looked terrified.
“I don't know.”
“You were here.”
“The lights flashed.”
“One guard went to check the window.”
“Someone released smoke through the ventilation.”
“I couldn't see anything.”
Nico looked toward the open window.
A rope hung outside.
Rafe arrived behind him.
Marcella entered seconds later.
Nico turned toward her.
She saw the empty room.
For the first time, her fear appeared genuine.
“No.”
Nico walked toward her.
“What did you do?”
“I didn't.”
“You knew they were watching her.”
“I told them she was off-limits.”
“WHO?”
Marcella's composure shattered.
“Corrado.”
Nico froze.
Rafe frowned.
“Corrado Vale?”
The Bellandi family's attorney had served them for twenty-eight years.
He had written Salvatore's will.
He had handled Elena's estate.
He had personally accompanied Nico when he identified Elena's body.
Marcella nodded.
“He controls the cleanup.”
Nico stared at her.
“What cleanup?”
Marcella began crying.
“The things that went wrong.”
Rafe cursed softly.
Nico grabbed Marcella.
“Where would he take Vivia?”
“I don't know.”
Nico shook her.
“WHERE?”
Marcella cried harder.
“The old textile mill.”
Nico released her.
Rafe immediately began calling his team.
Marcella caught Nico's arm.
“Don't go there.”
Nico stared at her.
“My daughter is there.”
“That is exactly why they took her.”
Nico pulled away.
Marcella whispered.
“They don't want the USB anymore.”
Nico stopped.
She looked toward the computer.
“They want you.”
Rafe turned.
“Why?”
Marcella wiped tears from her face.
“Because Elena didn't hide the final evidence on that drive.”
Nico stared.
“How do you know?”
Marcella looked toward the torn wedding dress.
“Because I helped her hide it.”
Silence filled the room.
Nico's face changed.
“You helped Elena?”
Marcella nodded once.
“Three days before she died.”
Then a distant explosion shook the villa.
The windows rattled.
Rafe rushed toward the balcony.
Orange light rose beyond the trees.
The old Bellandi textile mill was burning.
May you like
Nico stared at the flames.
Vivia was somewhere inside.
