Chapter 4 – THE BLOODSTAINED ENVELOPE

“Step away from the safe, Lily.”

Bianca’s voice was venomous, her hand surprisingly steady for a woman who had just been thrown out of the house.

She was still wearing her crimson silk dress, but her makeup was smeared, making her look unhinged.

I backed away, clutching the thick envelope to my chest.

“You’re supposed to be gone,” I breathed.

“And leave without what’s mine?” Bianca laughed bitterly. “Marco gave me thirty minutes to pack. He thought I’d run away like a scared little girl. But I knew the old woman had a backup plan.”

She stepped closer, the gun aimed at my heart.

“Give me the envelope.”

“No,” I said, my voice trembling. “This belongs to Antonio.”

“Antonio is a fool,” Bianca spat. “He inherited an empire and runs it like a charity. My family built this city with the Carusos. We bled for it. And when my father went bankrupt, Vincenzo Caruso bought our debts and treated us like dogs.”

I stared at her, the pieces finally clicking together.

“You didn’t want to marry him,” I realized. “You wanted revenge.”

“I want the deeds,” Bianca corrected. “The Southside properties. They’re worth hundreds of millions. Antonio thinks he owns them, but the legal title is still in Vincenzo’s name. And that envelope contains the transfer.”

She cocked the pistol. The metallic click echoed in the silent room.

“I won’t ask again, maid. Hand it over, or I’ll leave you bleeding on this expensive rug.”

I looked at the gun. Then at the envelope in my hands.

If I gave it to her, she and Marco would destroy the Carusos.

If I didn’t, I would die, and my brother would be left alone.

Suddenly, I noticed something strange about the envelope.

There was a dark, rust-colored smudge on the bottom corner.

Dried blood.

Vincenzo Caruso had bled on his final will.

Before I could make a decision, a shadow moved in the hallway behind Bianca.

Small, bare feet padded against the hardwood floor.

It was Leo.

Antonio’s seven-year-old nephew. The son of his deceased sister.

He was holding a stuffed bear, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

“Auntie Bianca?” Leo mumbled. “Why are you holding a gun at Lily?”

Bianca jumped, spinning around.

For one split second, the gun was pointed away from me.

I didn’t think. I threw the heavy brass key straight at her face.

It struck her cheekbone.

Bianca shrieked, stumbling backward. The gun went off with a deafening BANG.

The bullet shattered Vincenzo’s oil painting, inches from my head.

The sound ripped through the mansion like thunder.

Instantly, shouting erupted from upstairs. Heavy boots pounded down the hallways.

Bianca scrambled to her feet, panicked. She looked at me, then at the terrified little boy standing in the doorway.

She lunged forward, grabbed the envelope from my hands, and bolted past Leo, disappearing into the darkness of the house.

“Lily!”

Antonio burst into the study, a weapon in his hand, his eyes wild. Marco was right behind him.

Antonio saw the shattered painting, the open safe, and me kneeling on the floor, pulling a sobbing Leo into my arms.

“What happened?!” Antonio roared.

“It was Bianca,” I gasped, holding Leo tightly. “She was hiding in the house. She opened the safe. She took the envelope.”

Marco stepped forward, his face pale. “She had a gun?”

“Yes,” I said, looking directly at him. “She said she was taking what belonged to her. The deeds to the Southside.”

Antonio’s face darkened with a terrifying wrath.

“Lock down the estate,” Antonio commanded Marco. “Nobody leaves. Find her.”

Marco nodded quickly and rushed out.

Antonio dropped to one knee beside me, gently touching Leo’s hair.

“Are you hurt, buddy?”

Leo shook his head, burying his face in my shoulder.

Antonio looked at me. “You saved him.”

“I tried to stop her, sir.”

Antonio stood up, his eyes falling on the open safe.

He frowned.

He reached inside the dark metal box.

“Lily,” Antonio said quietly. “Bianca took the envelope?”

“Yes. Vincenzo’s will. She took it.”

Antonio pulled his hand out of the safe.

He was holding a second, identical envelope.

“No, she didn’t,” Antonio said softly. “My father always kept a dummy envelope in the front. The real one is hidden under the floor panel.”

He tore open the thick wax seal.

As he read the papers inside, all the color drained from his face.

“Sir?” I asked, my voice shaking. “What does it say?”

Antonio looked up, his eyes hollow.

“The deeds aren’t in here.”

He flipped the paper over.

Attached to the back was a marriage certificate.

Dated thirty days ago.

Signed by Antonio, and signed by Bianca.

“I didn’t marry her,” Antonio whispered, his voice trembling with horror. “I swear to God, I didn’t marry her.”

I stared at the paper.

If they were legally married, Bianca didn’t need the deeds.

She just needed Antonio to die.

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