Chapter 3 - The Locked Drawer
The discovery left Adeline cold from head to toe. Her hands shook as she wiped down the testing kit, sealed the altered fluid into a tiny plastic specimen bag, and hid it deep inside the lining of her canvas tote bag resting in her staff quarters.
Nico wasn't failing to recover. His body was fighting against a daily dose of chemical paralysis.
She walked out into the long, dark corridor of the east wing. The Alfieri mansion felt different now—not just old and grand, but suffocating, like a golden cage lined with invisible knives. Who was replacing the medication? Dr. Sterling, the family physician who delivered the sealed boxes every Tuesday? Camille, who seemed so eager to administer the injections herself? Or Marcus, the ambitious cousin currently trying to seize control of the shipping division?
Adeline knew she couldn't simply make an accusation. In a house built on mafia traditions, where loyalty was enforced by silence and violence, an unfunded nurse making wild claims against the boss's fiancée would disappear before sunrise. She needed absolute, undeniable proof.
That night, at two in the morning, the mansion was buried in deep silence.
Adeline slipped out of her small room near the service stairs, dressed in quiet cotton trousers and soft socks. She carried a small penlight in her pocket. She navigated the carpeted hallways with silent steps, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs as she made her way toward the private study adjoined to Nico's bedroom.
She reached the heavy oak door. It was locked, as always.
Adeline reached into her pocket, pulling out a master key card she had quietly copied from Edna’s ring two days earlier while helping the housekeeper organize the linen closets. She swiped the card through the electronic reader above the handle.
A tiny green light flashed, and the lock disengaged with a soft, mechanical click.
Adeline slipped inside, closing the door behind her until it clicked shut.
The study was dark, illuminated only by the faint silver moonlight filtering through the high arched windows. The room smelled of old leather, cedar wood, and the bitter tobacco Nico occasionally smoked when he thought everyone was asleep.
She flicked on her penlight, shielding the beam with her palm as she approached the massive mahogany desk in the center of the room.
She began opening drawers quietly, her gloved fingers sifting through stacks of financial ledgers, shipping manifests, and legal deeds. Everything looked legitimate on the surface, but as she opened the bottom-right drawer—which was secured with a separate brass keyhole—she paused.
She pulled a thin metal hair pin from her hair, bending the tip deftly. Working as a nurse in overcrowded public wards had taught her a few unorthodox skills from patients over the years. She inserted the pin into the small lock, applying gentle pressure while turning it slowly.
Click.
The lock gave way.
Adeline pulled the deep drawer open. Inside lay a thick leather-bound notebook and a stack of medical reports bearing the seal of a private clinic in Switzerland.
She shone her light onto the first page of the medical folder.
It was an independent neurological evaluation conducted four months ago—shortly after Nico's crash. Adeline’s eyes scanned the complex medical jargon rapidly, her pulse racing.
PATIENT: Nico Alfieri DIAGNOSIS: Spinal contusion with localized trauma. No complete transection of the spinal cord observed. Full motor recovery anticipated within 6–12 months with aggressive physical therapy and proper neuro-regenerative therapy.
Adeline swallowed hard. His spine wasn't severed! The crash hadn't rendered him permanently disabled. He should have been walking months ago!
She flipped to the leather notebook. It contained meticulous notes written in precise, elegant handwriting that didn't belong to Nico. She recognized the sharp, leaning slant immediately—it was Camille’s handwriting.
October 12: Dosing adjusted to 15mg paralyzing agent daily. Patient displaying leg tremors; dosage must be increased before the board vote. November 3: Sterling confirmed delivery of altered vials. Marcus secured voting proxy for the logistics division. Marriage contract scheduled for execution prior to full asset transfer.
Adeline felt a wave of nausea crash over her.
It wasn't just Camille. It was a coordinated conspiracy between Camille, Marcus, and Dr. Sterling. They were deliberately keeping Nico disabled to force him into signing over control of the Alfieri empire to Marcus, while Camille secured her position as the legal controller of his estate through marriage!
Suddenly, a floorboard creaked outside in the hallway.
Adeline froze. She snapped the notebook shut, shoved the files back into the brass drawer, and locked it with her hairpin just as the brass door handle of the study began to turn.
She doused her penlight and dove behind the heavy velvet curtains draped over the window, holding her breath so hard her chest burned.
The heavy oak door swung open.
A tall figure stepped into the dark room, illuminated by the dim light of the corridor. It was Nico.
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He sat in his manual wheelchair, his dark shirt unbuttoned at the collar, staring into the dark study with sharp, vigilant eyes. He held a small, black semi-automatic pistol resting quietly in his lap.
"I know someone is in here," Nico said, his voice terrifyingly calm, cutting through the silence like a drawn blade. "Come out before I put three rounds through the furniture."
