Chapter 3 - The Silver Box in the Rose Garden and a Whisper in the Dark
The following morning broke with thick grey clouds and a chilly autumn drizzle.
I stood by the grand penthouse window with a steaming mug of tea, watching the
armed patrols march across the stone courtyard below. Ethan had been brought
into our suite twenty minutes earlier by his private tutor. The moment the
eight-year-old saw Lily waking up, he rushed across the room and wrapped his
arms around her in a tight hug.
“Thank you, Lily,” Ethan said, his voice trembling slightly. “Dad told me what
you did. You’re my best friend forever.”
Lily giggled, tapping his nose with her finger. “You can share my pancakes,
Ethan. Mommy makes the best ones.”
As the children sat at the low coffee table with coloring books, Marco knocked
and entered the room, his expression grave. He carried a transparent evidence
bag containing a small, polished silver tin.
Dominic walked in right behind him, his suit pristine, though dark shadows under
his eyes betrayed that he hadn't slept a single minute.
“Where did you find it?” Dominic asked Marco.
“Buried beneath the mulch in the north rose garden, ten yards from the kitchen
delivery ramp,” Marco answered, holding up the bag. “Dr. Harris tested the
interior residue. It matches the compound on the cake. We pulled a partial palm
print off the silver lid.”
Dominic took the bag, examining the intricate engraving on the metal surface.
“It has an emblem on the corner. A crest with two crossed sabers.”
My heart stopped beating. The mug of tea in my hand slipped, splashing hot
liquid across the wooden saucer.
Dominic’s sharp gaze snapped toward me instantly. “Nora? What is it?”
I gripped the saucer with shaking fingers, trying desperately to steady my
breathing. “The... the crossed sabers. I’ve seen that crest before.”
Dominic took two long strides across the room, closing the distance between us
until I could smell the faint scent of cedarwood and expensive espresso on his
coat. “Where, Nora? Think carefully.”
“Six years ago,” I stammered, my voice barely audible. “Before I came to work
for you. I worked briefly at an exclusive private club in Manhattan called The
Gilded Saber. It was owned by a man named Julian Rossi.”
May you like
Marco let out a sharp intake of breath. “Julian Rossi. Sal Moretti’s former
underboss. He vanished after the Manhattan territory split three years ago.”
“He didn't vanish,” Dominic said, his voice dropping into a register of pure,
icy fury. “He’s been hiding in our backyard, waiting for a chance to strike at
my throat. And he found someone inside my house to hold the knife.”
