Chapter 5 - Midnight Interrogation in the West Wing
Before the sun fully set, Matteo decided to confront Alessandra one last time.
He asked me to accompany him to the guest suite.
“Why do you want me there, Mr. Romano?” I asked as we walked down the carpeted hallway of the West Wing.
“Because you saw her eyes when you mentioned the pharmacy,” Matteo answered smoothly. “You have an eye for lies. Watch her body language while I speak.”
Marco unlocked the heavy door and pushed it open.
Alessandra was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed.
Her designer dress was rumpled, her makeup smeared with dried tears, but the moment she saw us, her arrogance flared back to life.
“Matteo!” she snapped, jumping up. “You have illegally detained me for fourteen hours! Do you have any idea what my family’s lawyers will do to you?”
Matteo walked into the room with slow, measured steps and pulled a chair out, sitting down facing her.
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
His mere presence dominated the space.
“Your family’s lawyers are currently answering subpoenas from the federal banking commission,” Matteo said evenly. “I froze all Vale joint trust accounts two hours ago.”
Alessandra’s jaw dropped.
“You... you can’t do that!”
“I can,” Matteo said. “And I did. Now, tell me about the meeting at eleven o'clock tonight in the meatpacking district.”
Alessandra’s pupils dilated.
A flash of genuine panic washed over her face.
I noticed her left foot twitch, a subconscious sign of wanting to run.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered.
“Don't lie to me, Alessandra,” Matteo said coldly. “Henderson left his notebook behind before he fled.”
Alessandra let out a bitter, manic laugh.
“Henderson is a fool! I told him to burn that book months ago!”
She clamped her mouth shut, realizing she had just confessed.
The silence that followed was freezing.
Alessandra looked from Matteo to me, her eyes burning with sheer venom.
“You,” she hissed, pointing a manicured nail at my face. “You ruined everything! You pathetic, penniless little maid! If you had just served the wine and kept your stupid mouth shut, Mrs. Romano would have passed away peacefully in her sleep, Matteo and I would have merged the dynasties, and you would still have a job cleaning my floors!”
I didn’t flinch.
I looked her directly in the eyes.
“I might be a maid, Alessandra,” I said calmly. “But I have never killed someone for money. And unlike you, when I look in the mirror, I don't see a monster.”
Alessandra lunged at me, her hands clawing like talons.
Before she could take two steps, Matteo’s arm shot out.
He grabbed her by the throat, pinning her against the wall with effortless strength.
His face was inches from hers, devoid of all mercy.
“Speak to Claire like that again, and I won't wait for the law to deal with you,” Matteo whispered.
Alessandra choked, gasping for air, her eyes wide with terror.
Matteo released her, letting her slide down against the wall, coughing and weeping.
“Who is running the meeting tonight, Alessandra? Give me a name.”
Gasping for breath, Alessandra looked up at him, defeated.
“Don Salieri,” she wheezed. “He promised... he promised my family half of the Romano shipping routes if we eliminated your father and weakened you from the inside.”
Matteo’s expression turned to stone.
Don Salieri was the head of the oldest and most ruthless crime syndicate in New York.
He turned toward the door.
“Marco.”
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“Yes, Boss?”
“Transfer her to the holding cell at the docks. Make sure she is comfortable. She will be our star witness when the heads of the Five Families convene.”
