Chapter 1 - THE SILENCE
The piano stopped in the middle of a note.
Naomi Carter dropped the glass in her hand.
It shattered across the marble floor.
For five months, Isabella Moretti had played the same three notes every afternoon.
Low.
High.
Low.
Her own private language.
One low note meant yes.
One high note meant no.
Two slow notes meant pain.
But silence?
Silence meant something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Naomi ran.
She reached the music room and grabbed the handle.
Locked.
“Mrs. Moretti?”
No answer.
Naomi pounded on the door.
“Mrs. Moretti!”
Something crashed inside.
Then came a weak, muffled cry.
Naomi’s stomach dropped.
A woman’s voice snapped from inside.
“Go away, Naomi.”
Vivian Cole.
Luca Moretti’s fiancée.
Naomi pressed her ear to the door.
“Vivian, open this door.”
“I said go away.”
Then Naomi heard Isabella whimper.
Not speak.
Not scream.
Whimper.
Like someone trying to cry without enough strength.
Naomi pulled out her phone and called the one person everyone in the house feared.
Luca Moretti answered immediately.
“What?”
Naomi lowered her voice.
“Come home.”
Silence.
“What happened?”
“Your mother is locked in the music room with Vivian.”
Luca’s tone changed.
Cold.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
A hard bang came from inside.
Naomi flinched.
Then she heard Isabella gasp.
Naomi whispered into the phone.
“She’s hurting your mother.”
Another silence.
Then Luca said, very quietly, “Get her out.”
The call ended.
Naomi stared at the door.
She backed up.
Then drove her shoulder into it.
Pain shot down her arm.
The door didn’t move.
She hit it again.
“Naomi!” Vivian screamed. “Stop!”
Naomi slammed into it a third time.
The lock cracked.
She kicked near the handle.
The door burst open.
Naomi stumbled inside.
Then froze.
Isabella lay on the floor beside the piano.
Her gray hair was loose.
A red mark burned across her cheek.
One wrist was bruised.
Black ink covered her thumb.
Vivian stood over her holding a thick legal document.
Naomi looked down.
DECLARATION OF MEDICAL INCAPACITY.
Her eyes moved to the final page.
A black fingerprint had been pressed beside Isabella’s name.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Vivian’s face changed.
The sweet smile disappeared.
“You should’ve stayed downstairs.”
Naomi stepped toward Isabella.
Vivian blocked her.
“Move.”
“You don’t understand what you saw.”
“I understand ink on her hand and a bruise on her face.”
Naomi pushed past her.
Vivian grabbed her arm.
Naomi spun around.
“Let go of me.”
Vivian’s nails dug in.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“No. You did.”
Naomi ripped free.
Vivian suddenly grabbed the front of Naomi’s uniform and tore the sleeve.
Naomi stared at her.
Then Vivian seized Isabella’s trembling hand.
“What are you—”
Vivian dragged Isabella’s fingernails across Naomi’s exposed arm.
Naomi screamed and yanked back.
Security burst through the doorway.
Vivian instantly dropped beside Isabella.
Her face collapsed into tears.
“She attacked her!”
Naomi went still.
“What?”
“She attacked Isabella!” Vivian cried. “I tried to stop her!”
The guards looked at Naomi.
At her torn uniform.
At the scratch marks.
At Isabella on the floor.
At the papers beside Naomi’s feet.
It looked terrible.
Perfectly terrible.
Then the mansion doors slammed downstairs.
A voice thundered through the house.
“WHERE IS MY MOTHER?”
Every guard straightened.
Heavy footsteps approached.
Luca Moretti appeared in the doorway thirty seconds later.
Six-foot-three.
Black suit.
No tie.
A fresh cut along his knuckles.
He looked first at Isabella.
Then Vivian.
Then Naomi.
His eyes stopped on the papers.
Vivian ran to him.
“Luca!”
She threw herself against his chest.
“Thank God. Naomi went crazy. She attacked your mother.”
Naomi stared at her.
“You’re lying.”
Luca didn’t move.
“Mom?”
Isabella slowly lifted her head.
Her eyes were wet.
Her hand trembled.
Then she pointed.
Straight at Naomi.
Vivian inhaled dramatically.
“You see?”
Luca’s eyes moved to Naomi.
Cold enough to stop her heart.
And then Isabella struck one low note on the piano.
May you like
Yes.
But nobody in the room knew what question she had just answered.
