Chapter 3 - THE STUDY ON THE THIRD FLOOR
The third-floor study smelled of aged tobacco, old leather, and rain.
Enzo Marchetti stood by the floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves, holding a glass of amber scotch in his right hand.
He didn't drink.
He just watched the dark glass reflect the amber light of the desk lamp.
A knock sounded at the heavy oak door.
"Enter," Enzo said without turning around.
The door clicked open, and Ambrose stepped inside, closing it securely behind him.
"You have the file?" Enzo asked.
"I do, Master Enzo," Ambrose replied, setting a thin leather folder on the edge of the large executive desk.
"And?"
"It's clean. Too clean."
Enzo finally turned around. His sharp, severe face was illuminated by the desk lamp, his gray eyes cold and razor-sharp.
"Explain."
"Adeline Croft," Ambrose began, opening the folder.
"Or at least, that is the name on her employment papers provided by the agency eleven days ago. She claims she came from a small town in upstate New York after her family farm went under."
"And the truth?"
"There is no farm," Ambrose said flatly.
"The property she listed was foreclosed five years ago. Her parents passed away when she was twelve. She spent her late teens in Chicago working as a surgical assistant at Mercy General Hospital under a different surname."
Enzo’s eyes narrowed by a fraction of a millimeter.
"A surgical assistant?"
"Yes, sir. Top of her class. Exceptional dexterity. Highly trained in emergency trauma care."
Enzo looked down at the desk, remembering the way Adeline had laid out her first-aid supplies in a precise row, snapping the ampule without using her teeth.
"That explains why she didn't flinch when Camila whipped her," Enzo murmured.
"She's used to seeing worse."
"There's more, Master Enzo," Ambrose added, his voice dropping lower.
"On the night she applied for the housekeeping position here, Senator Vance's chief of staff visited the agency offices twice. Coincidence?"
"In this house," Enzo said coldly, walking slowly around the desk, "coincidences are just poorly executed conspiracies."
"What are your orders?"
Enzo stared at the leather folder for a long moment, his jaw tightening.
"Bring her to the study," Enzo commanded.
May you like
"Now."
THE END OF CHAPTER 3
