Chapter 3: What the Butler Knew
Marco's answer, when it came, was careful.
"The camera log shows a manual override at three forty-seven this afternoon.
The access code used belongs to Vincent Bellini."
The medical suite went very still.
Dr.
Greene set down his clipboard.
Hannah's hand found Ellie's shoulder.
Adrian did not move.
He lay against the pillow with his eyes fixed on the ceiling, and when he spoke his voice was quieter than anyone in the room had ever heard it.
"Where is Vincent now?"
"We can't locate him, sir.
His quarters are empty.
His car is still in the garage."
"Then he's still on the estate." Adrian pushed himself upright.
Dr.
Greene stepped forward with one hand raised.
"Adrian, you need at least another—"
"I need Vincent Bellini in this room." Adrian's feet found the floor.
"Find him."
Marco left at a near run.
Two guards followed.
Hannah pulled Ellie closer.
"Mr.
Moretti.
Should we go back downstairs?"
"No." Adrian looked at Ellie.
Something shifted in his face — not softness exactly, but the absence of the hardness that was usually there.
"Stay where I can see you both."
Ellie looked up at him from beneath her dark curls.
"Are you still sick?"
"Not anymore."
"Because of the medicine?"
"Because of you."
She considered this with the gravity of someone twice her age.
Then she held Rosie out toward him.
"You can hold her if you want.
She helps when things are scary."
Hannah made a small sound.
Adrian looked at the worn stuffed rabbit for a long moment.
He took it.
He held it in both hands like something breakable, and he did not give it back.
---
They found Vincent in the wine cellar.
He was seated on a wooden crate between two racks of Barolo, his jacket folded neatly across his knees, his hands resting open in his lap.
He looked like a man who had been waiting for something he had already accepted.
Marco stood in the doorway.
"Mr.
Bellini."
Vincent looked up.
His eyes were red but dry.
"I expected it would be you."
"Mr.
Moretti wants to see you."
"Yes." Vincent stood slowly, smoothed the front of his shirt, and picked up his jacket.
"I imagine he does."
---
They brought him to the medical suite still carrying his jacket over one arm.
He stopped in the doorway when he saw Adrian sitting upright on the edge of the bed.
He looked at Hannah.
He looked at Ellie.
Then his gaze dropped to the floor and did not come back up.
"Vincent." Adrian's voice held no heat.
That was the most dangerous sign.
"Sit down."
Vincent sat in the chair beside the door.
The chair scraped against the tile.
"You have served this family for nineteen years," Adrian said.
"Yes."
"You were at Elena's funeral."
Vincent's jaw tightened.
"Yes."
"You carried Lily's coffin."
The old man's hands closed around his jacket.
His knuckles went white.
"Yes."
"Then tell me," Adrian said, "who paid you to finish what the bomb started."
The silence that followed was not empty.
It was full of something old and heavy and terrible.
Vincent raised his head.
His eyes were wet now.
"They told me you were going to sell the harbor contracts to the Castellano family.
They said it would start a war.
They said people would d*e.
Dozens of people.
Maybe more."
"Who told you this?"
"Russo." The name came out like something Vincent had been holding in his chest for weeks.
"Carmine Russo.
He came to me six weeks ago.
He said he had proof.
Documents.
He showed me figures, shipping routes, names." Vincent's voice cracked.
"He said you had already decided.
He said the only way to stop it was—"
"Was to kjll me."
Vincent flinched.
"He said it would prevent a war."
"And you believed him."
"I believed—" Vincent stopped.
His hands opened.
The jacket slid from his lap to the floor and he did not pick it up.
"I believed I was protecting people.
I know now that I was wrong.
I know now that I—" His voice broke completely.
"The little girl.
I didn't know the little girl was in the house.
I didn't know she would—"
"Stop." Adrian stood.
He was still in his medical clothes, still pale from the reaction, but he crossed the room and stood over Vincent with the full weight of everything he was.
"Carmine Russo fabricated those documents.
There are no Castellano contracts.
There is no deal.
There never was."
Vincent stared up at him.
"What?"
"He used you, Vincent.
He used nineteen years of your loyalty and your grief and your love for this family, and he aimed it at me like a g*n." Adrian's voice did not rise.
"And you pulled the trigger."
Vincent pressed both hands over his face.
Ellie, from across the room, watched the old man's shoulders shake.
She looked up at her mother.
Hannah shook her head very slightly.
Ellie tucked Rosie under her arm and stayed quiet.
Adrian turned away from Vincent and looked at Marco.
"Get me everything you have on Carmine Russo.
Tonight."
"Yes, sir."
"And Vincent." Adrian did not turn back around.
"You will not leave this estate.
Not yet."
Vincent lowered his hands.
His face was ruined.
"I understand."
"I don't think you do," Adrian said.
"But you will."
He walked back to the bed and sat down.
His hands rested on his knees.
After a moment he realized he was still holding Rosie.
May you like
He set her gently on the pillow beside him.
Carmine Russo's name sat in the room like a lit match.
