Chapter 2 - The Interrogation Room
The basement beneath the Grandeur Hotel did not appear on the blueprints provided to the city inspector. Behind a concealed door in the main wine cellar lay a soundproofed room with exposed brick walls, a single concrete drain in the floor, and a heavy steel table surrounded by three chairs.
Lena sat in one of those chairs, her hands trembling violently in her lap. The knuckles of her right hand were swollen, red, and throbbing with a dull pain.
Two hours had passed since the incident in the ballroom. The guests had been dismissed after a systematic search by Romano’s men. The police had not been called. In Victor Romano's world, calling the police was considered an admission of incompetence.
The heavy steel door whined on its hinges as it opened.
Victor walked in, followed by Dmitri. Victor had removed his tuxedo jacket, rolling his crisp white shirt sleeves up to his elbows, revealing dark tattoos of old Italian phrases tracing his forearms. He pulled out the chair opposite Lena and sat down slowly.
He placed a white ice pack on the steel table between them.
"For your hand," Victor said. His voice was calm, low, and smooth as smoked glass.
Lena stared at the ice pack, then up at his face. "Are you going to kill me?"
A faint, cold smile touched the corner of Victor's lips. "If I wanted to kill you, Miss Hart, you would not be sitting in a chair with an ice pack. You would already be resting at the bottom of the Hudson River."
He leaned back, resting his hands on the arms of the chair. "Your name is Lena Hart. Twenty-six years old. Employed at the Grandeur for three years, seven months. No criminal record. One brother, Toby, fourteen years old, currently receiving care at Saint Jude’s Pavilion in Westchester."
Lena’s blood turned to ice. "How do you know that?"
"I know everything about everyone who enters my perimeter," Victor replied evenly. "What I do not know is how a banquets maid recognized potassium cyanide from five feet away before a trained security detail saw it."
Lena swallowed hard, her chest tight. She reached out with her trembling left hand and placed the ice pack over her swollen right knuckles.
"My father," she whispered.
Victor raised an eyebrow. "Your father?"
"He was a industrial chemist," Lena said, her eyes fixed on the cold steel table. "He worked for a chemical manufacturing plant in Jersey. When I was twelve, he brought home safety manuals. He... he was obsessed with safety. He taught me the scents of volatile compounds. He told me that if champagne ever smelled like crushed bitter almonds or burnt sugar, you don't drink it. You run."
Victor stared at her for a long moment, evaluating her tone, her micro-expressions, the subtle tremor in her voice. Beside him, Dmitri remained motionless as a statue.
"You didn't run," Victor noted softly. "You hit a man surrounded by armed bodyguards."
"I didn't think," Lena admitted, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "I just saw you about to drink it. If I screamed, you might have swallowed it before understanding why. I... I did the only thing that would stop your hand instantly."
Victor tilted his head slightly, acknowledging the cold logic of her response. "You broke my lip."
"I'm sorry," Lena said quickly, her eyes wide with genuine fear.
"Do not apologize," Victor said, his tone sharpening slightly. "That split lip saved my life. Which brings us to a more pressing question." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his dark eyes locking onto hers with suffocating intensity. "Did you see who put it in the glass?"
Lena hesitated.
The memory flashed through her mind: Leon Mercer’s left hand hovering over the tray near the service corridor, the subtle glint of his signet ring, the grey dust, and the furious glare he had directed at her after the glass shattered.
If she named Leon Mercer, she was accusing the second most powerful man in the Romano organization. If she was wrong, or if Victor chose to protect his inner circle over a maid's word, she would disappear into the concrete floor beneath their feet.
"Miss Hart," Victor said, his voice dropping an octave, carrying a dark, quiet promise. "You saved my life tonight. That places me in your debt—a position I find deeply uncomfortable, but one I respect absolutely. However, if you lie to me now, that debt is canceled."
Lena drew a deep breath, steeling herself.
"It was Mr. Mercer," she said clearly.
Dmitri let out a soft, sharp breath. Victor did not move a single muscle.
"Describe what you saw," Victor commanded.
"He was standing near the service station at 9:15," Lena said, the details spilling out of her in a rush. "He picked up the glass from the bartender's prep tray. He hovered his left hand over it. He wears a heavy gold ring with an onyx stone on his pinky finger. He pressed the side of the setting, a small sliding mechanism opened, and grey powder fell into the bubbles. He stirred it gently with the crystal stem, turned, and brought it to your table."
Silence filled the small concrete room like heavy smoke.
Victor stood up slowly. He walked to the corner of the room, looking up at the bare brick wall for nearly thirty seconds. When he turned back, his face was entirely drained of warmth.
"Leon has been at my side for fifteen years," Victor said, almost to himself. "His father served my father."
"He looked angry when the glass broke," Lena added softly. "Not surprised. Not shocked. Angry at me."
Victor looked at Dmitri. "Where is Leon now?"
"He is waiting in the executive lounge on the penthouse floor, boss," Dmitri replied in his thick Russian accent. "He thinks we are processing the maid."
"Good," Victor said. He turned back to Lena, examining her with a new, dangerous calculation in his eyes.
"Miss Hart," Victor said, leaning down so his face was level with hers. "Your life as a maid at the Grandeur Hotel ended ten minutes ago. Leon Mercer knows you saw something. Even if I release you now, you will not live to see tomorrow morning."
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Lena’s heart slammed into her throat. "What are you saying?"
"I am saying," Victor replied, holding out his hand to her, "that from this moment on, you are under my personal protection. And in return, you are going to help me destroy the man who tried to kill me."
