Chapter 3 - The Maid Who Refused to Hide
By morning, Enzo had transformed the residence into a command center.
Amelia hated every second of it.
“You have fourteen men outside.”
“Twelve.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“Two are downstairs.”
She glared at him.
Enzo handed her coffee.
“You’re arguing before caffeine.”
“I can multitask.”
Tommaso entered.
“We found the source of the last payment.”
Enzo turned serious.
“Who?”
“A holding company controlled by Sebastian Vale.”
Amelia frowned.
“Who’s Sebastian Vale?”
Enzo didn’t answer immediately.
“My godfather.”
Amelia slowly lowered her cup.
“Your godfather.”
“Yes.”
“The man who helped raise you?”
“Yes.”
“And you trust him?”
“I did yesterday.”
“Then yesterday was your mistake.”
Enzo gave her a sharp look.
She didn’t apologize.
Tommaso continued.
“Vale is hosting the Marciano Foundation dinner tonight at the Venetian Grande.”
Amelia almost laughed.
“My hotel.”
Enzo looked at her.
“No.”
“I haven’t suggested anything.”
“You’re about to.”
“I know the employee areas.”
“No.”
“I know which cameras don’t cover the ballroom service doors.”
“No.”
“I know where Vale’s private dining suite is.”
“Still no.”
Amelia leaned forward.
“Then why am I here?”
“To keep you alive.”
“Wrong.”
Enzo’s jaw tightened.
“You brought me here because I saw something your people missed.”
He said nothing.
“You can put fifty guards around me. It won’t change what happened yesterday.”
“What exactly happened yesterday?”
“I saved you.”
Silence.
Amelia continued.
“I’m not saying that because I think I’m brave. I’m saying it because I paid attention.”
Tommaso looked toward Enzo.
“She has a point.”
Enzo glared at him.
Tommaso shrugged.
“She does.”
That evening Amelia returned to the Venetian Grande.
Not alone.
And not secretly.
Enzo agreed she could work her normal floor while his people monitored the hotel from a distance.
“No heroics,” he told her.
“No treating me like luggage.”
“Amelia.”
“Enzo.”
He exhaled.
“Stay where Tommaso can reach you.”
“Fine.”
At 8:12 p.m., Amelia pushed her housekeeping cart down the nineteenth-floor service corridor.
At 8:19, Sebastian Vale entered suite 1910.
At 8:23, another man joined him.
Amelia recognized him immediately.
Her hands froze around the cart.
Older now.
White hair instead of gray.
But on his right hand was a gold ring.
Black stone.
She whispered into the tiny microphone hidden beneath her collar.
“Enzo.”
His voice came instantly.
“What?”
“He’s here.”
“Who?”
“The man from my parents’ apartment.”
Silence.
Then:
“Leave the floor.”
“No.”
“Amelia.”
“I need to hear what they’re saying.”
“You’ve identified him. That’s enough.”
“It isn’t enough for me.”
She moved closer to the service door.
Voices carried through the partially open suite entrance.
Sebastian spoke first.
“Marciano should have entered that elevator.”
The older man answered.
“Your people failed.”
Amelia’s blood turned cold.
Sebastian continued.
“And the Duarte girl?”
“She should have disappeared eight years ago with her father.”
Amelia stopped breathing.
Then a third voice came through her earpiece.
Enzo.
Very quiet.
“Amelia. Walk away.”
Her eyes filled, but her voice remained steady.
“Did you hear that?”
“I heard everything.”
“He killed my father.”
“I know.”
“No. We prove it.”
A door opened behind her.
Amelia turned.
Sebastian Vale stood at the end of the corridor.
His expression changed when he saw her.
“Miss Duarte.”
Amelia’s heart pounded.
He knew her name.
Sebastian smiled.
“I believe you and I should talk.”
A second voice came from behind Amelia.
“No.”
Enzo Marciano stepped from the service stairwell.
His eyes were fixed on the man he had once called family.
May you like
“You talk to me.”
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