Chapter 5 - The Anatomy of a Traitor
Lorenzo turned his computer monitor toward me. The screen displayed a digital floor plan of the entire Duca estate, glowing with blue and red security nodes. Dozens of small white dots represented the staff moving throughout the grounds.
"The theft of the key required three things," Lorenzo explained, tapping his bare finger against the glass screen. "First, knowledge of where the staff locker keys are kept. Second, access to the second study while you were incapacitated. Third, an intimate understanding of your shift rotation."
"That narrows it down to about twenty people," I muttered, leaning closer to examine the screen.
"It narrows it down to three," Lorenzo corrected. He clicked a button on the mouse, bringing up three distinct profile photos.
The first was Marcus, the head of estate security, a massive man with a broken nose and cold eyes who had worked for Lorenzo's father.
The second was Elena, the young blonde kitchen maid who always looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
The third was Dr. Bianchi—the very physician who had just tended to my arm.
"Dr. Bianchi?" I gasped, looking up at him. "She saved me last night!"
"She is also a certified surgeon who knows how to administer a controlled dose of paralytic aerosol mixed into citrus cleaner," Lorenzo said smoothly, his voice devoid of emotion. "A chemical that causes temporary unconsciousness without leaving a trace in the bloodstream. Perfect for knocking out a cleaning maid while someone else plants a key in her pocket."
"Why would she betray you?"
"Because her son is currently sitting in a federal prison in Milan, courtesy of a prosecutor who happens to be a close associate of the Moretti family," Lorenzo replied, locking his gaze with mine. "Every traitor has a price, Maya. Mine is loyalty bought with blood. Theirs is bought with leverage."
"And the other two?"
"Marcus is too proud, but he has gambling debts in the underground clubs downtown. Elena has a brother working at the docks who suddenly bought a brand-new motorcycle last week." Lorenzo stood up, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. "We cannot arrest them openly. If we show our hand, the real mastermind inside the syndicate will go into hiding. We need to draw them out."
"How?"
Lorenzo stepped close to me again, the scent of cedar and dark espresso filling my senses. "Tonight, at midnight, you are going to take that stolen key, walk down to the north gate, and leave it hanging on the iron latch. Exactly as the traitor promised the Moretti family."
May you like
My breath hitched in my throat. "And if the Morettis are waiting there?"
"I will be waiting right behind you," Lorenzo said softly. "And so will my men."
