Chapter 2 - THE SILVER BOX
“Bring me her purse.”
Luca Moretti did not raise his voice. He did not need to.
Vanessa stood so quickly that her chair scraped against the marble. “You cannot be serious. You're going to let a desperate maid accuse me of poisoning you?”
“I haven't accused you of anything,” Luca replied. “I asked for your purse.”
One of the guards approached. Vanessa clutched the small silver evening bag against her waist.
“No.”
The single word changed the atmosphere.
Luca slowly stood. “Give it to him.”
Vanessa looked around the table, searching for support. Thirty-two guests suddenly found their plates fascinating. Richard Bellini, her father, sat three seats away, his expression carefully blank.
“Luca, darling, this is humiliating.”
“Then it should be easy to clear up.”
At last, Vanessa dropped the purse onto the table. The guard opened it with gloved hands. Inside were a phone, lipstick, compact mirror, several cards, and a small silver box no larger than a match case.
Emma pointed. “That one.”
Vanessa's face lost its color.
The guard opened the box. Several small green leaves lay folded in tissue beside a narrow glass vial with a dark cap.
“Don't touch those,” Emma said quickly. “I don't know what they are.”
Luca looked at the chef. “Did you put anything like this in the food?”
“No, sir.”
“Did anyone ask you to?”
The chef shook his head.
Vanessa forced a laugh. “They're herbs. I use them for tea. This is absurd.”
“Then why were you carrying them beside the dinner table?” Luca asked.
“I had a headache.”
“Did you put them on my plate?”
“No.”
Emma spoke before she could lose her nerve. “I saw you take something from the box. You leaned over the plate after the servers left.”
Vanessa turned on her. “You were nowhere near me.”
“I was behind the service screen.”
Luca raised one hand, stopping the argument. “Seal the purse and the plate. Nobody eats or touches anything else from this table. Call the private physician and an independent laboratory. I want the food tested.”
He turned to Marco, his head of security. “Preserve the dining-room footage. Every camera. No one edits or deletes anything.”
Vanessa's expression shifted from outrage to fear.
“Luca, please. We can discuss this privately.”
“We will discuss it when I know what was in that box.”
He looked toward Emma. “You did the right thing.”
For the first time that evening, Emma felt her knees weaken. She had expected to be fired. She had not expected the most powerful man in the room to believe her.
But as the guards carried Vanessa's purse away, Richard Bellini quietly slipped his phone beneath the table.
Emma noticed.
So did Luca.
May you like
“Mr. Bellini,” Luca said. “Put the phone on the table.”
Richard froze.
