Chapter 5 - The Snake in the Garden
Three days later, the rain returned, casting a grey mantle over the Moretti estate. Inside, however, a strange new warmth had taken root.
For the first time in ten years, the grand dining hall did not feel like a tomb.
Lily sat at the foot of the long oak table, her short legs swinging as she happily painted a coloring book with expensive gold-leaf pens Dante had instructed his staff to buy for her. Dante himself sat at the head, a stack of intelligence dossiers in front of him, but his eyes kept drifting toward the small girl and her mother.
Clara was dressed in a soft, cream-colored cashmere sweater that Dante’s housekeeper had provided. Her cheeks had regained their rosy warmth, though a subtle aura of anxiety still lingered around her.
“He’s looking at us again, Mommy,” Lily whispered loudly behind her hand.
Dante coughed slightly, lowering his dossier. “I am reading, young lady.”
“You’re reading upside down,” Lily observed innocently, pointing a blue crayon at his papers.
Marcus, standing near the doorway, let out a sudden, strangled cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Dante shot Marcus a sharp glare, though there was no real venom behind it.
“She has a point, Boss,” Marcus murmured.
Before Dante could respond, the heavy grand doors of the mansion swept open.
Valeria St. Clair swept into the hallway, wrapped in a white mink coat, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. Her face was flushed with anger, her perfectly manicured hands clutched around a leather handbag.
“Dante!” Valeria snapped, brushing past the security guards who made a half-hearted attempt to slow her down. “What is the meaning of this? You haven't answered my calls in four days! The wedding planners are frantic, my father is demanding an explanation regarding the trust transfers, and your office says you’ve been running the syndicate from home!”
She stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes fell upon the scene in the dining room.
Clara sitting calmly near the fire. Lily holding her crayon. Dante sitting at the head of the table, looking utterly unfazed by her sudden intrusion.
Valeria’s eyes narrowed into slit-like points of pure venom.
“What is she doing here?” Valeria demanded, pointing a gloved finger at Clara. “Your secretary? And her brat? Dante, have you lost your mind? The media is asking questions about your absence, and you’re harboring house staff in your private residence?”
Dante slowly closed his dossier. He stood up, towering over the room, his presence immediately suffocating the air in the hall.
“Clara is not my house staff, Valeria,” Dante said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “She is my guest.”
“A guest?” Valeria sneered, walking closer to the table, her tone dripping with disdain. “She’s a disgraced former nurse who was kicked out of St. Agnes for negligence! Did she not tell you that, Dante? She’s a low-class thief who couldn't even keep her nursing license!”
Clara flinched, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the armrest of her chair. Lily shrank back, sensing the aggression in Valeria’s voice.
Dante’s eyes turned to liquid ice. He took three long strides until he was standing inches from Valeria.
“Watch your tongue in my house,” Dante warned, his voice low and lethal. “Clara was framed at St. Agnes because she refused to let a patient die to cover a senior doctor’s mistake. A mistake orchestrated by Dr. Vincent Hallow.”
Valeria’s breath caught in her throat. The color drained from her face so fast she looked like a statue of salt.
“I... I don't know what you’re talking about,” Valeria stammered, stepping back.
“Don't you?” Dante murmured, leaning down slightly. “Dr. Hallow was on your father’s payroll ten years ago. Just as he was ten days ago when he attempted to alter the records in the basement archives. Did you really think Clara was just answering phones, Valeria? She was fixing the mess your family tried to hide.”
Valeria’s composure shattered. She looked from Dante to Clara, realizing in a terrifying instant that the trap had failed.
“Dante, listen to me—” Valeria began, her voice trembling.
“Marcus,” Dante interrupted, not taking his eyes off Valeria. “Escort Miss St. Clair off the property. Cancel the wedding announcements. Notify the board that the Moretti-St. Clair merger is permanently terminated.”
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“You can't do this!” Valeria shrieked as Marcus stepped forward, his heavy hand landing firmly on her arm. “My father will ruin you! The syndicate will split!”
“Tell your father,” Dante whispered, his voice echoing through the vast hall like a death knell, “that I am coming for him. And I bring my mother’s spirit with me.”
