Chapter 6 - The Shattered Glass
The next three days were a whirlwind of violence and tension.
A full-scale turf war had erupted between the Moretti family and the Castigliones. The estate was put on high lockdown. Heavy armed guards paced the perimeter day and night, and the air was thick with the scent of gun oil and cigar smoke.
Clara kept her head down, continuing her routine. But Arthur was nowhere to be seen, locked away in emergency meetings or out in the city coordinating retaliation.
On the fourth night, Clara was returning to her room after finishing the laundry in the basement. The house was eerie, quiet despite the armed men stationed at the doors.
As she entered the servants’ wing, she noticed the door to her bedroom was slightly ajar.
A chill ran down her spine.
She paused, gripping the handle of her linen basket tightly. She stepped softly toward the door and peeked inside.
The room was trashed.
Her small closet had been ripped open, clothes scattered across the floor. Her mattress was flipped over, the lining sliced with a blade. Her books were dumped from their shelves, pages torn out.
Standing in the center of the room, turning pages of her personal journal, was Julian Rossi.
Two armed thugs stood near her small window.
Clara’s heart stopped. She tried to step back silently into the hallway, but the floorboard beneath her foot creaked loudly.
"Clara," Julian’s voice called out pleasantly without him even turning around. "Come in, please. Close the door behind you."
One of the thugs stepped behind her, blocking the escape route and shoving her roughly into the room.
Julian closed her journal and tossed it onto the ruined bed. He turned to face her, his suit flawless, his expression cold as ice.
"Looking for something, Mr. Rossi?" Clara asked, fighting to keep her voice steady despite the sheer panic surging through her veins.
"I am," Julian said, strolling toward her slowly. "You see, Clara, Arthur has been acting very strangely lately. He’s paranoid. He carries something with him everywhere—a little book. But today, during our meeting with the capos, I noticed his jacket didn't bulge where it usually does."
Julian stepped right up to her, invading her personal space.
"He hid it," Julian whispered. "And since he spent so much time in this room four nights ago, and so much time with you in the library, I thought maybe he gave his little treasure to his favorite maid for safekeeping."
"I don't have anything of his," Clara said, looking him dead in the eye. "Search the room all you want. You won't find a book here."
Julian slapped her.
May you like
The crack echoed like a gunshot in the tiny room. Clara’s head snapped to the side, the burning pain spreading across her cheek. She staggered back, hitting the wall, but refused to let out a cry.
"Don't lie to me, you little trash," Julian hissed, grabbing her by the throat and pressing her against the wall. "Where is the ledger?"
