Chapter 3
From the periphery of the stunned, silent crowd, Maria Collins stepped forward. At forty years of age, the longtime Moretti housekeeper was a fixture of absolute loyalty within the violent Mafia household. Dressed in her immaculate professional housekeeper uniform, crisp white apron, and sensible flats, her fair skin was pale, and she was visibly shaking.
Yet, despite her fear of the dangerous men surrounding her, she walked directly into the center of the conflict.
"Mr. Moretti," Maria said, her voice quivering but carrying a profound, undeniable truth.
Dante turned his sharp gaze toward the woman who had helped raise his daughter. "Speak, Maria."
Maria looked at Victoria, her eyes narrowing with a protective, fierce maternal instinct, and then she looked back to the veteran boss.
"That melody," Maria stated clearly, her American accent ringing out across the bright, sunlit room. "Mrs. Moretti never recorded it. She never wrote down the sheet music. She only ever played it in the nursery, late at night, when the doors were closed."
The implications of the housekeeper’s words hit the room like a physical shockwave. If Elena Moretti had never recorded the song, and never played it in public, there was absolutely no legitimate way Victoria Lane could have learned the notes.
Victoria’s defiant posture collapsed entirely. The color drained from her face, leaving her looking sickly and terrified. "She... she must have played it for someone else! Maria is just a servant, Dante, she doesn't know everything!"
Before Dante could interrogate the trembling bride, sudden, violent movement erupted from his right.
Adrian Moretti, Dante’s forty-three-year-old cousin and a senior Mafia capo, lunged forward. Dressed in a sharply tailored suit, a crisp dress shirt, and a heavy family ring, Adrian had been standing quietly among the guests. Now, his fair face was slick with a sudden, desperate sweat.
Adrian instantly grabbed Victoria’s wrist, his grip just as harsh as hers had been on Lily.
"We are leaving," Adrian barked, his voice tight with panic. He aggressively yanked Victoria toward the grand arched exit of the reception hall. "This party is over. The staff has lost their minds, and I won't let you be insulted, Victoria."
"Adrian, let go of me!" Victoria cried out in confusion, stumbling in her high heels as he dragged her across the marble.
"I said we are leaving!" Adrian roared, his eyes darting frantically toward the armed bodyguards stationed near the doors.
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Dante remained perfectly still for a fraction of a second, his brilliant, tactical mind assembling the horrifying puzzle. His cousin. His fiancée. A secret song stolen from a dead woman's lips.
"Nobody leaves," Dante ordered. His voice was a low, guttural command that immediately mobilized the entire room.
