Chapter 2

By seven that evening, every entrance to Sofia's floor is watched.

I don't tell Adrian.

I don't tell Sofia why.

Not yet.

At eight twenty, a member of the household staff carries a tray upstairs.

Hot chocolate.

Sofia drinks it almost every night while she studies.

My security man intercepts the tray before it reaches her room.

A lab technician I trust confirms it in less than twenty minutes.

"Poison."

Sofia goes still beside me.

I had made her stay while we tested it.

Maybe that is cruel.

But last time, I protected her from the truth until the truth killed her.

Not again.

My men follow the staff member who delivered the tray.

He meets Danny Cole, one of the household security assistants.

Danny is caught leaving the rear garage.

In his pocket, we find cash and messages arranging the delivery.

The number belongs to Isabella's assistant.

When Adrian arrives, everything is already on the table.

The poisoned drink.

The payment.

The messages.

Danny's signed statement.

Isabella comes with him.

She sees the evidence and immediately starts crying.

"I don't know anything about this."

I look at Adrian.

"Your daughter was almost poisoned."

His eyes move over the table.

Then to me.

"How did you know to stop the drink?"

For one second, I think I misheard him.

"What?"

"You changed Sofia's security this morning. Hours before any of this happened."

Sofia looks at him.

"You think Mom poisoned me?" she asks.

Adrian exhales.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

Isabella steps forward.

"Sofia, your father is only trying to understand what happened."

Sofia looks at her.

"Don't."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't talk to me like you're my mother."

"Sofia," Adrian warns.

"She isn't," Sofia says.

"She could have killed me."

"We don't know that."

Sofia stares at him.

There is poison ten feet from his daughter.

And Adrian still cannot say Isabella might be responsible.

He turns to me.

"Danny could have been paid by anyone. Messages can be faked."

"Of course."

My voice is calm.

"You'd rather believe I staged my own daughter's murder than believe Isabella wanted her dead."

"I said I want proof."

"You have proof."

"I have pieces."

Isabella wipes her tears.

"Elena has hated me for years. Maybe she thought if Sofia was never in real danger—"

I cross the room before she finishes.

Adrian steps between us.

"Enough."

I look past him at Sofia.

This is the moment.

Not when she is twenty-two.

Not when she is in a cell waiting for her father to decide whether she lives.

Now.

"Sofia."

She looks at me.

"Never assume your father will choose you just because you're his daughter."

"Elena," Adrian says.

I ignore him.

"Your safety cannot depend on someone loving you enough to do the right thing."

Sofia swallows.

Then nods.

Adrian orders Danny and Isabella's assistant held separately while he "investigates."

I know what that means.

Time.

Time for evidence to disappear.

Time for stories to change.

As Isabella leaves, she looks back at me.

She isn't afraid.

She smiles.

The paper inside my jacket turns hot.

I pull it out.

The old words vanish.

New ones bleed across the page.

Danny has an eight-year-old sister. Isabella is using her to control him.

Another line appears.

Three nights from now, Isabella will announce that she is pregnant.

I keep reading.

She will drink from a glass connected to you. She will collapse in front of Adrian and the family.

Her doctor will say she lost the baby.

Then:

They will say you killed Adrian's unborn son because you wanted Sofia to inherit.

One final sentence appears.

Isabella Russo is not pregnant.

I look toward the door she just walked through.

For three days, I traced every lie Isabella had built around this pregnancy.

The clinic led to an old medical file.

The file led to a woman the Russo family had spent years pretending didn't exist.