Chapter 2 - THE WHISPER ON THE STAIRS
Adrian Moretti stood at the far end of the dim corridor.
His shadow stretched long across the polished hardwood floor.
He held a glass of amber whiskey.
Ice clinked against the crystal rim.
His dark eyes stared directly at Dominic.
“You’re making a mistake keeping that old thing, brother.”
Dominic didn’t move.
The heavy antique mirror rested against the wall behind him.
Its carved wooden frame seemed to absorb the dim light.
“It was Elena’s,” Dominic said quietly.
Adrian took a slow sip.
“Elena is gone. Four years is a long time to mourn a ghost.”
Vanessa hurried down the stairs, her heels clicking sharply.
She placed a manicured hand on Adrian’s arm.
“Tell him, Adrian. The wedding is in two weeks.”
Dominic looked between them.
Their proximity felt too practiced.
Too rehearsed.
“Why were you on the back stairs the night she died, Adrian?”
The question hung in the air.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
Adrian’s smile vanished.
The glass in his hand stopped moving.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me,” Dominic stepped forward. “The police report said you were in the garage.”
“I was,” Adrian’s voice tightened.
“The security logs say otherwise.”
Vanessa gasped.
“Dominic, are you interrogating your own brother?”
“Stay out of this, Vanessa.”
Dominic’s voice dropped an octave.
The temperature in the hallway seemed to plunge.
Adrian set his glass down on a mahogany table.
A drop of amber liquid spilled over the edge.
“You’re letting a dead woman ruin your future.”
“I’m finding the truth.”
“The truth is that Elena fell,” Adrian sneered. “She was clumsy. She always was.”
Dominic remembered the handwritten letter in the metal box.
*Don't trust the people who tell you my death was an accident.*
“She didn't fall, Adrian.”
Adrian’s jaw clenched.
“Prove it.”
Dominic turned his back on his brother.
He walked toward his study.
Hannah stood quietly near the doorway.
Her bandaged hand was tucked against her apron.
She watched Dominic pass.
Her eyes held a warning.
Inside the study, Dominic locked the heavy oak door.
He pulled out his phone.
He dialed a trusted aide.
“Viktor. I need surveillance logs from October 2021.”
“Right away, Boss.”
Dominic hung up.
He looked down at the note Hannah had given him.
*Ask your brother who was on the stairs.*
The phone buzzed instantly.
An unknown number.
He swiped to answer.
A synthesized voice spoke through the speaker.
May you like
“Stop digging, Dominic. Or the maid gets the same mirror dropped on her.”
The line went dead.
