Chapter 4 - Unmasking the Serpent
Within five minutes, a portable high-definition monitor was wheeled into the blue study by Paolo and two towering guards in black suits. The room was heavy with tension. Clara was still weeping softly on the floor, though her tears had shifted from pure terror to a fragile, bewildered hope. Lily had curled back up in the massive armchair, her thumb tentatively near her mouth before she remembered she was being brave and pulled it away, clutching her one-eyed rabbit instead.
Lorenzo stood beside the monitor, his arms crossed over his chest. "Play it, Paolo."
The screen flickered to life, displaying crystal-clear footage from the hallway housing the staff lockers. The timestamp read yesterday, October 14, at 3:14 PM.
The video showed Ranata walking down the quiet corridor. She looked around cautiously, checking both directions to ensure the hallway was completely empty. Then, from her deep apron pocket, she pulled out a heavy gold-and-gemstone object—the missing French clock. She used her master key to unlock locker number 42—Clara’s locker—slipped the clock inside, locked it back, and tucked the key away with a smug, vindictive smirk before strolling off as if nothing had happened.
The monitor clicked off, plunging the room back into a heavy, suffocating silence.
Ranata collapsed against the wall, her knees finally giving out. All her grand pretense of dignity, fourteen years of service, and aristocratic airs vanished, leaving only a pathetic, cornered woman trembling in a designer suit.
"Mr. Duca... please," Ranata choked out, her hands shaking as she reached out toward him. "I... I made a mistake. It was a lapse in judgment. Clara... Clara was up for promotion to senior floor lead, and my niece was hoping to get that position... I just wanted to—"
"You wanted to frame an innocent woman, throw her and her toddler out into the cold autumn night without a cent, and ruin her life over a petty shift in hierarchy," Lorenzo finished for her, his voice devoid of any human warmth. "In my world, Ranata, betrayal has a very specific price."
He turned to the two guards standing by the door.
"Escort her off the property immediately. Strip her of her pension, her title, and anything belonging to this estate. Ensure she never sets foot in this city again. If I ever see her face or hear her name anywhere near my properties, her next journey won't be out the front gates."
The guards moved with mechanical precision. They grabbed Ranata by her arms, hauling her upward as she began to sob and wail, dragging her sputtering and thrashing out of the study and slamming the heavy oak doors shut behind them.
The room grew quiet once more.
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Lorenzo exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders back to release the tension. He turned around to face Clara, who was still kneeling on the floor, staring at him as if he were a ghost or a god.
"Get up, Clara," Lorenzo said, his voice softening just a fraction. "You have nothing to apologize for."
