Chapter 7 - Shadows of Treason
Two weeks passed. The mansion had settled into a new rhythm. Hannah had completely transformed the cold, fort-like atmosphere into a warm, lively home. The triplets were blossoming—talking in small sentences, laughing, and running through the gardens.
Dominic, too, was changing. The feared mob Don spent his evenings sitting on the floor playing tea party with his daughters, leaving his hardened capos speechless whenever they came to deliver reports.
However, a snake still lingered inside the house.
Eleanor Vale could not accept that a former waitress was now running the estate and holding the keys to the Vale fortune.
One afternoon, while Dominic was away in Manhattan overseeing a shipping harbor deal, Hannah was in the estate study reviewing the children's medical reports. A sharp knock sounded at the door.
It was Eleanor, holding a silver tray with tea.
"I brought you some chamomile," Eleanor said, her voice unnaturally polite. "You look exhausted, Hannah."
Hannah narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Eleanor. You've barely spoken to me since the wedding."
"I was bitter," Eleanor said, sitting down across from her, pouring the tea with practiced grace. "I spent forty years defending the Vale name. I thought you were an opportunist. But... I see how happy my son is. I see how my granddaughters are talking. I was wrong about you."
Hannah looked at the cup of tea placed in front of her. She was no fool. She had spent two weeks learning the cutthroat rules of the underworld.
"Thank you, Eleanor," Hannah said softly. She picked up the teacup, bringing it close to her lips—then paused.
"Is something wrong?" Eleanor asked, her eyes tracking the cup with subtle desperation.
Hannah noticed a faint, microscopic oil sheen floating on the surface of the tea.
"Actually, Eleanor, my throat feels a bit dry. Why don't you take a sip first to show me it's brewed correctly?" Hannah said, sliding the cup back toward the old woman.
Eleanor’s face went pale white. "I... I do not care for chamomile."
"Drink it, Eleanor," Hannah demanded, her voice cold as ice.
"How dare you insult me—!"
Hannah slammed her hand on the desk, standing up. "Marco!"
The door flew open immediately. Marco stepped in, his hand on his holster. "Yes, Mrs. Vale?"
"Take this tea down to the lab. Test it for tasteless paralytics or poison," Hannah ordered.
Eleanor stood up, trembling with rage. "You arrogant little bitch!"
"If there’s poison in that cup, Eleanor," Hannah said, leaning over the desk, "I won't tell Dominic. I'll let the High Commission handle a Matriarch attempted murder charge. You'll spend the rest of your life in a dark cell."
Eleanor panicked. "You don't know what you're doing! Viktor Moretti has already bought off three of Dominic's capos! The Vale empire is falling tonight! I was trying to save us by offering Viktor a peace deal!"
Hannah froze. "What did you say? Viktor is attacking tonight?"
"At the docks!" Eleanor cackled hysterically, realizing she was caught. "Dominic went to the docks for a routine shipment inspection. It was a trap! My capos disabled his vehicle security! He’s walking into a firing squad right now!"
Hannah’s heart stopped.
She turned to Marco. "How many men do we have at the docks with Dominic?"
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"Only four, ma'am," Marco said, his face drained of color. "He thought it was a routine meeting."
"Get the assault team ready," Hannah commanded, her eyes blazing with terrifying fury. "We're going to the docks."
