Chapter 2 - He Checked the Laundry Room and Found the Bloody Truth
Alessandro knelt beside the unconscious woman.
Her breathing was shallow, a terrible rattling sound echoing in her chest.
Sophie threw her tiny arms around her mother’s neck, crying uncontrollably.
"Mommy, wake up! The nice man is here!"
Alessandro placed two fingers against Clara’s neck.
Her pulse was weak, but it was there.
A nasty cut across her temple was bleeding freely, staining the white towels beneath her head.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a single button.
"Get Dr. Evans to the basement laundry room. Now."
He hung up without waiting for a reply.
Alessandro gently moved Sophie back a few inches.
"Let me help her, Sophie. You need to give her space."
Sophie sniffled, backing away just a fraction but refusing to let go of her mother’s sleeve.
Alessandro inspected the scene.
The overturned cart.
The scattered detergent boxes.
A brutal struggle had happened here.
And Clara was not a woman who fought unless she was cornered.
He noticed her right hand was clenched tightly into a fist.
Even in unconsciousness, she was guarding something.
Alessandro gently pried her slender fingers open.
A small, heavy object dropped into his palm.
It was a silver bracelet.
Thick, custom-made, with a unique clasp shaped like a coiled serpent.
Alessandro’s blood ran ice cold.
He didn't just recognize this bracelet.
He had gifted it to one of his most trusted men five years ago.
Footsteps pounded down the hallway.
Dr. Evans, an underground physician who had patched up more bullet wounds than a combat medic, rushed into the room carrying a black bag.
"Boss, what happened?"
"Head trauma. Possible broken ribs. Stabilize her."
Evans dropped to his knees, shining a penlight into Clara’s unresponsive eyes.
"She needs to go to the medical wing. We need to move her carefully."
"Do it," Alessandro ordered.
He stood up, slipping the silver serpent bracelet into his pocket.
The metal felt heavy against his leg, a physical reminder of betrayal.
Someone in his inner circle was careless.
Or arrogant.
Sophie looked up at him, her eyes wide with terror.
"Is Mommy going to heaven?"
"No," Alessandro said, his voice flat but absolutely certain.
"Your mother is staying right here."
He bent down and scooped the three-year-old into his arms.
Sophie stiffened at first, unused to being held by the imposing man, but the exhaustion and fear soon won over.
She rested her head on his broad shoulder.
"Where are we going?" she mumbled.
"To my office," Alessandro said.
He walked behind the doctor who was wheeling Clara on a stretcher toward the private medical suite.
Alessandro didn't return to the third-floor meeting room.
He knew Damien, Vincent, and the others were still sitting around the walnut table, waiting for his return.
Let them sweat.
He needed to know exactly what Clara had seen before he started tearing his empire apart.
Because the bracelet in his pocket belonged to Vincent Marchetti.
But Alessandro’s instincts—honed by years of surviving assassinations—told him Vincent wasn't the one who struck the blow.
Vincent was a brute, yes.
But he wasn't stupid enough to leave his custom bracelet in the hand of a maid.
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Someone was setting a trap.
And they had used Clara Bennett as the bait.
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