Chapter 1 - THE WOMAN WHO STEPPED BACK
Alessandro saw Vivian’s retreat.
So did Clara.
For one suspended second, their eyes met across Emma’s brown curls.
Vivian immediately stopped moving.
She lifted her chin as though the backward step had meant nothing.
Alessandro rose slowly, still holding the unfolded ear of the blue rabbit.
“Lock every door.”
The guards obeyed before the guests could react.
Heavy bolts slid into place throughout Villa Moretti.
Men stationed themselves beneath the arches.
Others closed the courtyard gates and sealed the iron entrance overlooking the lake.
A murmur traveled through the corridor.
Vivian gave a thin laugh.
“You cannot be serious.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“Does something amuse you?”
“It is a child’s toy.”
“A child’s toy made you move toward the exit.”
Vivian’s eyes flashed.
“I moved because twenty armed men reached for their guns.”
“No.”
Don Ricci stepped away from the mirror.
His silver hair shone beneath the chandeliers.
“You moved first.”
The murmur died.
Vivian turned toward him.
“You are mistaken.”
Don Ricci’s expression remained cold.
“I have survived six assassination attempts because I rarely mistake fear for coincidence.”
Clara pulled Emma closer.
The little girl’s fingers had tightened around the rabbit’s body.
“Mommy,” Emma whispered.
“Why are they mad at Mr. Bunny?”
Clara kissed the top of her head.
“They aren’t mad at him.”
She looked at the embroidered circle crossed by three thorns.
“They’re afraid of what he knows.”
Vivian’s mouth twisted.
“This is absurd.”
She pointed toward Clara.
“She brought that symbol into Alessandro’s house.”
Clara stared at her.
“I didn’t know it was there.”
“That is convenient.”
“I stitched the ear closed after it tore.”
“Or you stitched it closed to hide your message.”
Several guests exchanged glances.
The accusation worked exactly as Vivian intended.
Suspicion moved through the room faster than truth.
Clara felt it settle over her.
She was the employee.
The outsider.
The widow with no powerful family standing behind her.
Vivian was a Romano.
Her last name opened doors and closed investigations.
Alessandro turned the rabbit over in his hands.
The toy was badly worn.
Its blue wool had faded almost gray around the paws.
One black stitched eye sat slightly higher than the other.
There was nothing remarkable about it except the symbol hidden inside the ear.
“Who repaired this?” Alessandro asked.
“I did,” Clara said.
“When?”
“Almost two years ago.”
“Before your husband died?”
“Yes.”
“What was his name?”
The question struck harder than Clara expected.
“Daniel Bennett.”
A flicker passed through Don Ricci’s eyes.
Alessandro noticed it.
“You knew him.”
Don Ricci took a moment before answering.
“I knew of him.”
Vivian suddenly turned toward the older man.
“You know every accountant and driver in northern Italy now?”
Don Ricci ignored her.
He studied Clara instead.
“Daniel Bennett worked for Bellandi Freight.”
Clara’s stomach tightened.
“He told me he worked for an insurance company.”
“He did.”
Don Ricci’s voice became quieter.
“Bellandi Freight’s insurance division.”
A man near the center arch stiffened.
Cesare Bellandi was broad-shouldered, bald, and dressed in a dark green tuxedo.
Two armed guards stood behind him.
“That division closed three years ago,” Cesare said.
“After an internal theft.”
Clara looked at him.
“What theft?”
“A confidential archive disappeared.”
Vivian crossed her arms.
“And now the thief’s widow walks into this gathering carrying the mark of the Circle.”
Clara rose to her feet.
“My husband was not a thief.”
“You were told he died in an accident.”
Vivian smiled without warmth.
“Perhaps you were told many things.”
Emma pressed her face against Clara’s waist.
Clara wanted to strike Vivian.
She wanted to erase the smug certainty from the woman’s face.
Instead, she wrapped one arm around her daughter.
Alessandro handed the rabbit to Don Ricci.
“What is the Circle?”
No one answered.
Alessandro’s eyes darkened.
“I asked a question.”
Cesare Bellandi glanced toward the guards.
“The Circle of Thorns was an alliance.”
“Was?”
“It no longer exists.”
Don Ricci examined the embroidered mark.
“That is what certain people wanted us to believe.”
Vivian rolled her eyes.
“A bedtime story for old men who miss being feared.”
Don Ricci looked at her.
“Your grandfather carried that mark.”
Vivian’s face went still.
Only for an instant.
But Clara saw it.
Alessandro saw it too.
Vivian recovered quickly.
“My grandfather collected symbols from defeated enemies.”
“He had this one burned into the door of every warehouse he seized.”
“Then perhaps Daniel Bennett stole the rabbit from him.”
Clara stepped forward.
“Daniel bought it at a street market in Florence before Emma was born.”
Vivian laughed again.
“And you believed him?”
Clara felt shame rise with her anger.
Daniel had traveled often during the final year of his life.
He had explained the absences with conferences, audits, and emergency meetings.
Clara had believed him because trust had seemed easier than suspicion.
Alessandro reached for the rabbit again.
His thumb moved over the opened ear.
“There is something beneath the embroidery.”
He pressed the fabric.
A small hard shape shifted inside the stuffing.
Emma gasped.
“Mr. Bunny has a bone.”
One of the guests almost smiled.
No one else moved.
Alessandro took a slim knife from inside his jacket.
Clara grabbed his wrist.
Every guard in the corridor aimed a weapon at her.
The movement happened so quickly that Emma screamed.
“Stop!”
Alessandro’s command cracked through the corridor.
The guards froze.
Clara released his wrist.
Her heart hammered against her ribs.
“I’m sorry.”
Her voice shook.
“But that rabbit is the last thing Emma has from her father.”
Alessandro looked from her to the frightened child.
Then he folded the knife and returned it to his pocket.
“We will open it without damaging the toy.”
Vivian scoffed.
“Are we truly delaying this interrogation to protect a dirty stuffed animal?”
Emma looked at her.
“He isn’t dirty.”
Vivian’s lips curled.
“He smells like dust.”
Emma hugged the rabbit’s body tighter.
“He smells like Daddy.”
The words struck Clara with such force that she nearly lost her balance.
The corridor fell silent again.
Alessandro turned toward his housekeeper.
“Bring my mother’s sewing box.”
The elderly woman hurried away.
Vivian stepped toward him.
“This is becoming humiliating.”
“For whom?”
“For all of us.”
“No.”
Alessandro’s gaze shifted to the red mark Vivian had left on Clara’s cheek.
“Only for you.”
Hatred returned to Vivian’s face.
This time, she did not hide it.
“You would insult the Romano family over a servant?”
“I would insult anyone who mistakes cruelty for authority.”
Cesare Bellandi raised one hand.
“We should question Mrs. Bennett privately.”
Clara heard the true meaning.
Away from witnesses.
Away from Alessandro.
Away from anyone who might object if questioning became punishment.
Alessandro heard it too.
“She stays here.”
Cesare’s jaw tightened.
“If Daniel Bennett stole our archive, she may be involved.”
“She was slapped in front of this room before anyone knew what the rabbit contained.”
Alessandro turned toward Vivian.
“Why did you strike her?”
Vivian hesitated.
“She spilled wine near my dress.”
Clara stared at her.
“The tray was full.”
“Then you spoke disrespectfully.”
“I hadn’t said a word.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“Yes.”
The word left Clara before caution could stop it.
Several guests inhaled sharply.
Vivian stepped toward her.
“You insolent—”
Alessandro moved between them.
“Finish that sentence.”
Vivian stopped.
The elderly housekeeper returned carrying a polished wooden box.
Alessandro placed the rabbit on the console.
He selected a pair of tiny silver scissors.
Emma watched anxiously as he cut a few threads along the inner seam.
He opened the wool carefully.
A slender brass key fell into his palm.
A strip of paper followed it.
The paper had been rolled so tightly that it looked like a cigarette.
Alessandro unfolded it.
Seven numbers had been written in faded black ink.
Beneath the numbers was a single sentence.
Clara watched his eyes move across the words.
“What does it say?”
Alessandro did not answer.
Don Ricci took the paper from him.
The color drained from the old man’s face.
Cesare Bellandi stepped forward.
“What is it?”
Don Ricci looked toward the locked doors.
“It says the Moretti house has already been opened from the inside.”
A sharp electronic beep came from the guard nearest the north arch.
He touched the radio in his ear.
Then his expression changed.
“Sir.”
Alessandro turned.
“What happened?”
“The cameras are down.”
“How many?”
“All of them.”
The chandeliers went dark.
Someone screamed.
A gunshot exploded beneath the arches.
Clara threw herself over Emma.
May you like
In the darkness, a hand closed around the blue rabbit.
Then someone ripped it from Emma’s arms.
