Chapter 4
The bright, festive colors of the ballroom suddenly felt suffocating, as if the oxygen had been vacuumed from the room. The cheerful daylight streaming through the windows clashed violently with the dark, heavy reality settling over the Bellandi family.
"Rafe," Nico commanded, his American accent flat and unyielding. "Lock the main doors. No one leaves this reception. Collect the cell phones of every single guest at the head tables."
"On it, Boss," Rafe replied, gesturing sharply to a dozen bodyguards standing at the perimeter. The men in dark suits moved with synchronized, military precision. The heavy oak doors of the ballroom slammed shut with a resounding thud, the brass deadbolts clicking loudly into place.
"Nico, you can't do this!" shouted a man rushing from the center of the room. It was Leo Vance, Marcella’s new husband. He was a wealthy associate from an allied crime family, his fair, rosy face flushed with indignation as he adjusted his tuxedo jacket. "This is my wedding! You are holding my family hostage over a piece of trash that fell out of a child's dress!"
"Take one more step toward me, Leo, and you will be attending a funeral instead of a wedding," Nico warned, not even turning his head to look at the groom.
Leo froze, swallowing hard as two of Rafe’s men stepped into his path, their hands resting on their holstered weapons.
Nico looked down at the folded piece of paper in his hand. The paper was slightly yellowed, carrying the faint, sweet scent of lavender that Elena always wore. He unfolded it carefully, his thumb brushing over the elegant ink. The silence in the room was absolute as everyone watched the Mafia boss read the final words of his dead wife.
"What does it say, Boss?" Rafe asked quietly, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Nico.
Nico’s eyes scanned the page. The muscles in his jaw corded tightly, his teeth grinding together as the blood drained from his fair skin. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, mastering the violent storm erupting inside his chest.
"She knew," Nico whispered, his voice dangerously low. "Elena knew she was going to die."
"Nico, it’s a lie!" Marcella screamed from the floor, scrambling backward away from the broken glass, her wedding dress ruined. "She was paranoid! The medication the doctors gave her made her delusional! You know she wasn't in her right mind before the accident!"
"Elena was the most lucid, brilliant woman I have ever known," Nico replied, his voice rising in volume, echoing off the marble floors. "And this note says that the brake lines on her car were not cut by a rival family. It says they were cut by someone inside this house."
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"It's a fabrication!" Marcella wept, shaking her head frantically. "She always hated me! She planted that to destroy our family!"
"We will see what she planted," Nico said, holding up the black USB drive. "Rafe. Bring me a laptop. Set it up right here on the bridal table. I want every single person in this room to see exactly what my sister is so desperate to burn."
