Chapter 4 - The Housekeeper's Dilemma
The next afternoon, the mansion was bustling with preparations for a mafia summit.
Dean was hosting the heads of the five families in the grand dining room.
He was essentially presenting himself as the new acting Don.
Massimo was confined to his library, staring out the window, looking more fragile than ever.
Carla prepared the small basin of warm water. She added the lavender oil.
She handed the basin to Nina.
"Go to the uncle, sweetheart. Do your magic," Carla whispered, her voice shaking slightly.
Nina smiled her bright, innocent smile and waddled into the library.
Carla followed closely behind, carrying fresh towels.
There were no guards in the room. Dean had pulled them all to the dining hall for his grand meeting.
"Uncle Massimo," Nina chirped, placing the basin at his feet. "Time to wake up your feet."
Massimo offered a weak, tragic smile. "Thank you, little angel."
As Nina splashed the warm water over his numb toes, Carla stepped forward.
She pretended to adjust the blanket over his lap.
With lightning speed, she slipped a small, folded piece of paper directly into his cold hand.
Massimo flinched, his gray eyes darting up to meet hers.
Carla gave a sharp, desperate shake of her head, pleading with her eyes. Don't speak.
She turned and began wiping down the bookshelves, her back to him.
Massimo slowly uncurled his fingers. He opened the small note under the cover of his blanket.
It read: The doctor is poisoning you. The white pills cause paralysis and heart failure. Dean and Camille are together. DO NOT EAT OR DRINK ANYTHING THEY GIVE YOU. I will help.
For a long moment, the library was dead silent, save for the splashing of water from Nina's little hands.
Massimo's breathing stopped.
The gray eyes that had been dull and lifeless for six months suddenly flared with a terrifying, primal fire.
The pieces of the puzzle slammed together in his mind.
Dean's miraculous survival. The perfectly timed ambush. Camille's insistence on Dr. Hale. His own worsening condition despite the wounds healing.
The betrayal was so deep it cut straight to his soul.
But Massimo Rinaldi did not become the boss of the East Coast by giving into panic.
He was a predator. And a predator knows how to play dead to catch its prey.
"Carla," Massimo's voice was hoarse but steady.
Carla turned around, her heart in her throat.
"My tea is cold," he said, staring directly into her eyes. "Bring me a new pot. And from now on, you are the only one who prepares my meals. Do you understand?"
May you like
Carla exhaled a shaky breath, nodding. "Yes, Mr. Rinaldi. Only me."
"And Nina," Massimo looked down at the toddler. "Keep washing my feet. I think it's finally starting to work."
