Chapter 2 - The Interrogation Room
The air in the basement storage cellar beneath the Grandeur Hotel smelled of damp concrete, old wine crates, and copper.
Lena sat bound to a heavy wooden chair, a single industrial floodlight shining directly into her face. Her hands were zip-tied behind her back, her maid vest torn at the shoulder from where Dmitri’s men had dragged her down three flights of service stairs away from the eyes of the police and guests.
Dmitri stood in the shadows just outside the ring of light, pacing back and forth with a heavy silver tactical knife in his hand.
"The police are outside," Dmitri said, his voice flat and dangerous. "Victor’s public relations team is telling the news that a server had a psychological breakdown. But down here, little girl, we talk about reality. You have no criminal record. You live in a two-bedroom apartment in South Chicago. You work three jobs. How much did Leon pay you to set up the framing?"
"Nobody paid me!" Lena sobbed, her body shaking uncontrollably from cold and exhaustion. "I don't know Leon! I don't know any of you! I saw the red mark on the glass stem! I heard them talking behind the curtain!"
"A maid who notices red grease-pencil marks on crystal?" Dmitri sneered, stepping into the light, resting the flat edge of his blade against Lena’s neck. "You expect me to believe a twenty-two-year-old laundry girl spotted a syndicate assassination attempt by accident?"
"My father was a chemist!" Lena yelled, staring straight into Dmitri’s eyes despite the blade at her throat. "He worked in pharmaceutical manufacturing before he died! He taught me how toxicologists mark experimental compounds! Red wax grease is used to identify volatile solvents in clear glass vessels! I saw the mark, I saw your boss about to drink it, and I panicked!"
The heavy steel door at the back of the cellar creaked open.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed across the concrete floor. Dmitri instantly withdrew the knife and stood at attention.
Victor Romano walked out of the darkness. He had removed his tuxedo jacket, rolled his crisp white sleeves up to his elbows, and wiped the blood from his mouth. A dark purple bruise was already forming along his left jawline where Lena had struck him.
He pulled up a second wooden chair, turned it backward, and sat down three feet in front of Lena.
"Aconite," Victor said quietly, leaning his arms on the back of the chair. "Derived from monkshood root. It causes rapid cardiac arrhythmia within ninety seconds of contact with the mucosal lining. By the time my security detail reached me, my heart would have stopped, and the coroner would have called it a massive heart attack brought on by stress."
He leaned closer, his dark brown eyes analyzing every micro-expression on Lena’s pale face.
"You saved my life, Lena Hart," Victor said. "And yet, my head of security found a glass in the pantry with your fingerprints wiped onto it, thirty minutes before the event started."
"It was Marcus," Lena whispered, her voice breaking. "He handed me the tray to carry upstairs. He asked me to adjust the stems without gloves while he checked the seating tags."
Victor turned his head slightly toward Dmitri. "Where is Marcus?"
"Found him in the alley behind the kitchen," Dmitri replied quietly. "Two bullets in the back of the head. Leon’s cleanup crew tried to erase the chain of custody."
Lena closed her eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks. "My brother..." she wept quietly. "My brother is home alone with my sick mother. They don't have medicine. Please... if you're going to kill me, just let me send money to my brother first."
Victor stared at her for a long, heavy moment. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a gold pocket knife, and sliced through the plastic zip-ties binding her wrists.
"Dmitri," Victor commanded softly. "Send two of our private physicians to her house immediately. Ensure her mother is transferred to the private wing at St. Anthony’s Hospital under my name. Pay off her medical ledger in full."
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Lena blinked through her tears, clutching her sore wrists. "Why... why are you doing that?"
Victor stood up, buttoning his cuffs. "Because you punched me in front of three hundred people to keep me alive. Now, Lena, you are going to help me destroy the people who put you in this chair."
