Chapter 3 - A Mother's Desperate Gamble
The walk back to the Rinaldi estate felt like a journey through a nightmare. Carla gripped the fabric of her coat, her mind spinning with terrifying realizations. Dr. Hale was poisoning Massimo. But Dr. Hale wouldn't do this on his own. He was just a hired hand. Who had the power to hire him, protect him, and benefit from Massimo being confined to a wheelchair? The answer hit her like a physical blow to the stomach. Dean Foster. The man who supposedly saved Massimo's life. The man who was slowly taking over every aspect of the Rinaldi empire. And Camille Ashwood, the fiancée who looked at Massimo with barely hidden contempt, yet pushed for a quick wedding to secure her legal status as his wife.
Carla realized she was holding a secret that could get her and her daughter killed in an instant. She was just a maid. A nobody in this world of blood and power. If she walked up to the guards and told them Dean was a traitor, she would be shot before she finished her sentence. Dean controlled the security now. Dean controlled who saw Massimo. She had to tell Massimo directly. But how? He was never alone. There were always guards at his door, and cameras in the hallways. The next afternoon, the time came for Nina's daily ritual. Carla prepared the small basin of warm water in the kitchen, her hands trembling so hard water sloshed over the sides. She added the lavender oil, the sweet scent doing nothing to calm her racing heart. She took a small square of wax paper, wrote a tiny message on it with a waterproof pen, and taped it flat to the bottom of the basin, right under where Massimo's feet would rest.
May you like
Nina carried the basin into the library, her tongue poking out in concentration. Carla walked right behind her, carrying the towels. Massimo sat by the window. Dean was there again, sitting on the leather sofa, reviewing some financial documents. "Ah, the miracle worker returns," Dean sneered without looking up. Nina ignored him. She set the basin down at Massimo's feet. Massimo offered a tired, gentle smile. "Thank you, little one." He lifted his lifeless legs with his hands and placed his bare feet into the warm water. Carla knelt beside Nina, pretending to adjust the towels. She caught Massimo's eye for a fraction of a second. She didn't look away. She stared at him with intense, desperate urgency, then flicked her eyes down toward the water. Massimo was a mafia boss. He hadn't survived this long by being unobservant. He noticed the maid's strange behavior immediately. His gray eyes narrowed slightly. He shifted his feet in the water. He felt something smooth and slightly raised on the bottom of the plastic basin.
While Nina splashed the water over his ankles, Massimo casually slid his big toe over the wax paper. Through the distortion of the water, he looked down. Written in tiny, frantic black letters were the words: THE PILLS ARE PARALYZING YOU. HALE IS POISONING YOU. TRUST NO ONE. - C. Massimo's heart stopped, then hammered against his ribs with terrifying force. He didn't gasp. He didn't change his facial expression. Years of ruthless underworld training kicked in instantly. He looked at Carla, who was still keeping her head down, her hands shaking slightly as she held the towel. Then, Massimo looked across the room at Dean. Dean, his best friend. Dean, the man who took two bullets for him. A cold, dark fury began to pool in the pit of Massimo's stomach. He calmly lifted his feet out of the basin, letting Carla wrap them in the towel. "Thank you, Carla," Massimo said, his voice smooth and entirely normal. "And thank you, Dr. Nina." The game had changed. And the real war was about to begin.
