Chapter 3
Helping Nico back into his wheelchair felt like lifting a man through fire.
Not because of his weight.
Because of his pride.
He kept his jaw locked.
He refused to make a sound.
But I felt the tremor in his arm when he gripped my shoulder.
I saw the flash of pain in his eyes when his legs shifted.
Camille watched us like I was stealing something from her.
Maybe I was.
Control.
When Nico was seated again, I stepped back.
He adjusted his shirt cuffs with slow precision.
Then he looked at every person in the foyer.
“Party’s over.”
No one moved at first.
Rich people hate being dismissed before dessert.
Then Luca Ferraro set his glass down.
“You heard him.”
That started the room moving.
Guests gathered purses.
Men whispered.
Women looked anywhere except Camille.
She stood in the center of the foyer, pale with fury.
“You can’t humiliate me like this.”
Nico looked at her.
“You slapped me on my floor in front of witnesses.”
“You made me do it.”
The words came out fast.
Too fast.
Several guests froze.
Nico smiled without warmth.
“No. Keep talking.”
Camille’s mouth tightened.
She turned to Luca.
“You know what this looks like? A nurse manipulating a wounded man.”
Luca’s eyes moved to me.
He was one of the three men who had not helped Nico.
I had already hated him for that.
He looked ashamed now.
Good.
I said, “I have recordings.”
Camille went still.
Nico turned toward me.
“What recordings?”
I pulled my phone from my pocket.
My hands were steady until I saw the dried blood near Nico’s mouth.
Then rage almost made them shake.
I opened the first file.
Camille’s voice filled the foyer.
“I manage his life.”
The silence after it was thick.
Then I opened the video from the medication cabinet.
Camille’s face on screen.
Her hand on the unlabeled bottle.
Her voice telling me to sleep.
Nico watched without blinking.
When it ended, he looked at Camille.
“What were you giving me?”
“Nothing harmful.”
I felt the air shift.
Nico heard it too.
“Not nothing,” he said. “Nothing harmful.”
Camille lifted her chin.
“You were in pain. You were irrational. I made decisions.”
I stepped forward.
“You are not his doctor.”
“You are not his family.”
Nico’s voice cut through hers.
“Neither are you.”
Her face changed.
The engagement ring flashed on her finger.
“Seventeen days, Nico.”
“No.”
One word.
Flat.
Final.
She stared.
“What?”
“There will be no wedding.”
A murmur moved through the foyer.
Camille’s lips parted.
Then she laughed.
A strange, broken laugh.
“You think you can just call it off?”
“I just did.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“Then I hope you enjoy prison.”
Nico’s expression did not change, but I felt the room tighten.
Luca stepped forward.
“What does that mean?”
Camille looked at him, then at me, then back at Nico.
“You think the crash was an accident?”
My stomach dropped.
Nico went still.
For eight months, everyone in that house had spoken of the crash in careful fragments.
Wet road.
Brake failure.
Bad luck.
I remembered Edna’s note.
Ask about the crash.
Nico’s voice was dangerously soft.
“What do you know about the crash?”
Camille smiled.
“I know enough to make sure the police look at you before they look at me.”
Luca swore under his breath.
Nico did not move.
I did.
I walked toward Camille.
She stepped back.
“You said I had no idea what I was interfering with,” I said.
I took the specimen bag from my pocket.
The two white tablets were inside.
“I know about these.”
Camille’s eyes flicked down.
Then away.
“And I know about the bottle.”
“You stole medication.”
“I preserved evidence.”
Nico looked at the pills.
His face was unreadable.
Then Edna appeared at the edge of the foyer holding something wrapped in a dish towel.
“I have the rest.”
Camille spun around.
“You old witch.”
Edna flinched, but she did not retreat.
She handed the towel to Luca.
Inside was a small black box.
Luca opened it.
A flash drive.
A burner phone.
A damaged brake-line fitting.
Nico’s hands tightened on his chair rims.
“Where did you get that?”
Edna looked at him, eyes wet.
“Your father left instructions.”
The room went still.
Nico’s father, Matteo Alfieri, had died five years earlier.
His name still lived in that house like a law.
Nico whispered, “What instructions?”
Edna pulled a folded letter from her apron.
“If anything ever happens to you after Camille enters the family, I was to open the third safe.”
Camille lunged toward Edna.
Luca caught her arm.
This time, no one hesitated.
Nico looked at me.
“Call the police.”
Camille laughed.
“You don’t call police.”
May you like
Nico’s eyes were ice.
“For you, I’ll make an exception.”
