Chapter 3 - The Arrival of the Boss
The heavy oak front doors of the Rossi estate didn't just open; they crashed against the interior walls with a force that shook the crystal chandeliers in the foyer.
Footsteps—fast, heavy, and furious—echoed down the marble hallway.
Leo Rossi stood in the kitchen doorway.
He was a man who commanded entire shipping ports, syndicates, and financial districts without ever raising his voice. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his dark hair damp from the relentless rain, his sharp gray eyes swept the room in a single, calculating glance.
They saw the shattered wine glass on the floor.
They saw Victoria standing by the counter, disheveled and sobbing hysterically.
They saw me, bleeding, kneeling before the iron cellar door.
And then, Leo’s eyes landed on the small, silent door itself.
“Leo!” Victoria wailed, rushing toward him and throwing herself against his chest, instantly playing the victim. “Thank God you're here! Your insane housekeeper—she went completely feral! She attacked me, she smashed my wine, and now she’s accusing me of—of locking Lily in the cellar!”
Leo didn't hug her back.
He gently, but with absolute terrifying force, peeled Victoria’s arms off his jacket and set her aside as if she were a piece of trash.
“Leo?” Victoria stammered, blinking in shock.
Leo walked past her, his gaze locked entirely on me.
“Beatrice,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “What is happening here?”
“She locked her in, Mr. Rossi,” I said, my voice shaking as I pointed a blood-stained finger at Victoria. “Lily had an asthma attack. Her inhaler is upstairs. Victoria took the master ring, threw her in the dark, and left her there to suffocate.”
Leo’s face went completely blank. The temperature in the kitchen seemed to drop twenty degrees.
He slowly turned his head to look at Victoria.
“Is this true?” Leo asked.
Victoria’s composure cracked completely. She stammered, waving her hands frantically. “No! No, Leo, she’s lying! The girl was disrespectful, she needed a timeout, and this fat cow fabricated the whole story—!”
Before she could finish the sentence, Leo crossed the kitchen in two strides, grabbed the heavy brass master ring hanging from her belt loop, and ripped it away.
He didn't yell. He didn't curse.
He walked straight to the iron cellar door, slid the heavy iron key into the deadbolt, and turned it.
Click.
The door swung open.
A wave of cold, stagnant air rushed out.
“Lily!” I cried, scrambling past Leo into the dark.
I dropped to my knees on the stone floor. Lily was curled in a tight ball beside a wooden crate, her skin pale as paper, her lips tinged with blue, completely unresponsive.
“Paramedics are coming!” I shouted, lifting her light, limp body into my arms and rushing out into the kitchen light. “Mr. Rossi, get her rescue inhaler! Top drawer, right side of her bed!”
Leo didn't hesitate. He bolted up the stairs like a man possessed.
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While he was gone, Victoria tried to slip toward the back exit.
“Don't even think about it,” I snarled, glaring at her with such raw fury that she froze in her tracks, pressed flat against the pantry door.
