Chapter 2 - The Signature That Was Never His
The silence after Rosa's accusation was so complete that I heard a fork fall against a plate. Nico didn't look at Victoria. He looked at Mrs. Ellis, and the question in his eyes made the older housekeeper straighten her shoulders. “Take me to my father.” I followed because Rosa's fingers had closed around mine. She was shaking, and I refused to let her climb those stairs alone.
Upstairs, two men in gray uniforms stood beside an empty wheelchair. Nico's father, Antonio Santoro, sat in his armchair with his cane across his knees. His stroke had slowed his speech, not his mind. “I told them,” Antonio said, carefully forming each word, “I am not leaving my house.” Nico knelt in front of him. “You aren't. I promise.” For the first time that evening, the feared man sounded like a frightened son.
One of the men offered a clipboard. “We have signed authorization.” Nico held out his hand. I saw the signature before he did: Nicholas Santoro, in a broad, clumsy hand unlike the crisp initials I'd seen on household orders. Nico studied it for one long second. “That's not my signature.” The man began explaining that his supervisor had confirmed the paperwork. Nico interrupted with two words. “Call him.”
Victoria appeared behind us, her ivory gown brushing the carpet. “Nico, please. This is becoming a spectacle.” He didn't turn. “You hired these men to take my father away using a forged signature. Tell me why.” She stared at him. “I did what you couldn't.” Antonio struck the floor with his cane. “You told me my son wanted me gone.” Victoria's face changed, but she still tried to smile. “I was protecting the family.”
Nico instructed his security chief, Gabriel, to preserve the papers and escort the men to the front hall while the police were contacted. He didn't threaten them. That frightened me more than shouting would have. Victoria caught his sleeve. “Think about what this does to our wedding.” Nico finally faced her. “There won't be a wedding.”
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She went pale. Then her expression hardened. “You don't understand what you're walking away from.” Nico took her engagement ring from the palm she thrust toward him and set it on the side table. “I understand enough.” Victoria left with her head high, but as she passed me she whispered, “You should have stayed in the kitchen, Sophie.”
Later, while the guests were leaving, I brought Antonio tea. He asked me to open the bottom drawer of his desk. Inside lay a blue envelope addressed to Nico's late mother. “Someone searched for that today,” he said. “I heard the drawer.” Before I could ask what was inside, he gripped my wrist. “Don't give it to anyone but my son.” I took it downstairs, only to find Victoria's chauffeur waiting at the rear entrance. He watched the envelope in my hand and quietly reached for his phone.
