Chapter 3
Warren claimed he wanted to embarrass Sofia.
That was the first version.
I almost respected how small he made the crime sound.
“I wanted her to look foolish.”
“Why?”
He stared at the floor.
“She looks down on us.”
Sofia barely knew him.
Try again.
“Warren.”
He exhaled.
“The Marlowes walk into one wedding and suddenly everyone treats them like they own the harbor.”
There.
Not Sofia.
Territory.
The waterfront had been divided among several family branches for years.
The Pikes controlled a valuable distribution corridor through old Bianchi permission.
Temporary permission that had somehow survived twelve years.
Sofia’s marriage to Lorenzo changed the balance.
The Marlowes already controlled neighboring docks.
Together with Bianchi, they would make the Pike corridor less important.
Not removed.
Less important.
For certain people, loss of importance feels like death.
“What was supposed to happen after Sofia ate it?”
Warren shrugged.
“She gets dizzy.”
“And?”
“People talk.”
“And?”
Silence.
I waited.
Warren hated waiting.
“She makes a scene.”
“How?”
“She wouldn’t know what she was doing.”
“Then?”
His mouth tightened.
I already knew.
Beatrice would react publicly.
Concern.
Shock.
Whispers about Sofia arriving impaired.
Maybe questions about whether the Marlowe family had hidden a problem.
Enough to sour the first night of the alliance.
“Who was supposed to start the rumor?”
Warren looked toward the door.
Not his mother.
Interesting.
“Who?”
He said nothing.
There was another person.
I leaned closer.
“You put the substance on the plate.”
Silence.
“Your mother knew.”
Silence.
“But someone else was supposed to make sure the right people saw Sofia afterward.”
His face changed.
That was the next layer.
May you like
The plan needed an audience.
And someone inside my own reception staff had already been assigned to create one.
