Chapter 4 - Poison in the Shadows
Three days passed inside the Moretti fortress.
In those three days, my life transformed entirely. The torn waitress apron was replaced by soft cashmere sweaters and tailored trousers provided by Dante’s staff. But I didn't care about the luxury. My entire universe had shrunk down to one person: little Leo.
The baby refused to be separated from me. He ate only when I fed him, fell asleep only when I sang the old Italian lullabies my mother had taught me, and took his first shaky steps while holding onto my hands.
Dante spent his days running his criminal empire from his grand office downstairs, but every evening at 7:00 p.m., without fail, he would step into the nursery. He would shed his jacket, roll up his sleeves, and sit on the carpet with us, letting Leo climb over his broad shoulders while I watched from the sofa.
For three days, we were a strange, beautiful, broken family.
But peace in a mafia estate is an illusion.
On the fourth morning, while Dante was away in downtown Chicago attending an emergency meeting with the city's Commission, I was sitting in the sunlit garden with Leo. The baby was giggling, splashing his little hands in a stone water fountain while I held him securely.
"He certainly has taken a liking to you," a cold voice sneered from behind us.
I turned to see Luciana Moretti walking down the gravel path, holding a silver tray with a porcelain teapot and two delicate cups.
"Mrs. Moretti," I said politely, standing up and holding Leo against my hip.
"Sit, sit," Luciana said, her tone dripping with fake warmth as she set the tray on a wrought-iron table. "I thought it was time we had a civilized chat, Mara. After all, you are living under my family's roof."
I hesitated, my mother’s warnings screaming in the back of my mind. But I didn't want to cause trouble for Dante, so I sat down, keeping Leo securely in my lap.
Luciana poured two cups of steaming chamomile tea. "Dante is a powerful man, Mara. But he is driven by grief. He sees his dead wife when he looks at you. Do you really think he cares about you? Or are you just a convenient substitute to nurse his son?"
Her words stung, striking deep at my secret insecurities. Was I just a ghost to Dante?
"I don't care why I'm here, Mrs. Moretti," I replied evenly, keeping my voice steady. "I care about Leo's safety and well-being. That's all."
"How noble," Luciana smirked, sliding one of the tea cups toward me. "Drink. It’s a special blend from Calabria. It calms the nerves."
I looked at the teacup. The steam rose in delicate swirls, carrying a faint, sweet aroma—and something else. A sharp, bitter scent beneath the chamomile. A scent I recognized instantly.
My mother had worked for years in an herbal apothecary in upstate New York before we moved to the city. She had taught me the smells of wild plants.
Oleander. A lethal botanical poison that caused sudden cardiac arrest, leaving almost no trace in a standard autopsy.
My heart slammed against my ribs. Luciana wasn't just trying to intimidate me. She was trying to murder me while Dante was out of the house.
"Thank you," I said, picking up the cup with a trembling hand. "It smells lovely."
"Drink it while it's hot," Luciana urged, her dark eyes glittering with lethal anticipation.
I raised the cup to my lips, pretending to take a sip, but as I did, I deliberately leaned my elbow toward Leo.
Leo, being a curious eight-month-old, immediately reached out and smacked my arm.
CLATTER!
The delicate porcelain cup flew from my grip, shattering against the stone pavers, spilling the steaming green liquid across Luciana’s expensive leather shoes.
"You clumsy little street rat!" Luciana shrieked, jumping back in horror.
"I am so sorry!" I cried, pulling Leo close and standing up rapidly. "He reached out so fast! Let me call the servants to clean it!"
"Get out of my sight!" Luciana hissed, her face contorting in rage as she looked down at the puddle of poisoned tea rapidly soaking into her shoes. "Get back to the nursery!"
I didn't wait for a second invitation. I turned and ran back toward the mansion, holding Leo tightly against my chest, my heart pounding like a war drum.
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Luciana didn't just hate me because I was a Valenti. She was desperate to get rid of me. And there was only one reason why a woman would poison the only person keeping the boss's child happy:
Luciana didn't want Leo to survive either.
