Chapter 2 - The Shadow in the Mirror
By midnight, the Varric mansion felt less like a palace and more like an armed fortress. Heavy rain lashed against the tall stained-glass windows of the second floor, while the hum of high-powered security generators vibrated faintly through the floorboards.
Liana sat in a plush velvet armchair inside the nursery's private adjoining suite. The room was luxurious—decorated in soft cream and gold tones, featuring a king-sized bed, a private balcony overlooking the estate's vast gardens, and a state-of-the-art monitor displaying four live feeds of Nico’s crib.
Nico was fast asleep in his crib, sleeping soundly for the first time in three weeks without the painful sonic device tormenting his delicate ears.
Liana looked down at her hands. They were clean, but they felt empty. For the past three weeks, her hands had known only the cold texture of soapy water, harsh chemical cleaners, and cheap cotton rags. Now, she was wrapped in a soft silk robe provided by the estate staff, sitting in a room that cost more than her entire childhood home.
A knock echoed at the connecting door.
Liana stood up quickly, adjusting her robe. "Come in."
The door opened, and Matteo stepped into the room. He had taken off his suit jacket and tie; the top two buttons of his black dress shirt were undone, revealing the edge of a dark tattoo crawling up his collarbone. He carried a crystal glass with two fingers of amber whiskey and a thick Manila folder.
"He's still asleep?" Matteo asked, his voice low as he glanced toward the baby monitor.
"Yes," Liana said softly. "He woke up once twenty minutes ago, looked around, and went right back to sleep after I touched his forehead."
Matteo let out a long, heavy breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The lines of fatigue around his eyes were deeper now, bathed in the soft lamplight of the bedroom.
"He hasn't slept three consecutive hours since his mother died," Matteo murmured, leaning his hip against the edge of her wooden desk. "I thought I was losing him, Liana. I thought whatever illness took my wife was coming for my son."
Liana looked at him, catching a rare glimpse of the vulnerable man behind the ruthless mafia don. "What happened to your wife, Mr. Varric? If you don't mind me asking."
Matteo’s eyes darkened slightly, staring into his glass of whiskey. "Elena had an autoimmune condition. Or so the doctors told me. She collapsed seven months ago right here in this house. By the time the ambulance arrived, her organs were failing. The autopsy was inconclusive."
Liana’s brow furrowed. "Inconclusive? For a woman with your resources?"
"When you have as much power as I do, Miss Graves, doctors tell you what they think you want to hear, or what someone else paid them to say," Matteo said bitterly. "I believed it was an illness. But after what we found under Nico’s mattress tonight... I'm starting to believe Elena’s death was no accident either."
A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by the steady tapping of rain against the windowpane.
Matteo opened the Manila folder he was holding and laid three photographs on the desk in front of her.
"What are these?" Liana asked.
"The three women who were assigned to the nursery three weeks ago," Matteo explained, pointing to each picture. "Anabelle—a senior nanny who worked for my family for five years. Clara—a pediatric nurse hired from a private clinic in Boston. And Mrs. Gable—the head housekeeper who vetted your employment."
Liana looked down at the faces. Anabelle looked kind, in her late fifties with graying hair. Clara was young, attractive, with sharp eyes and a professional smile. Mrs. Gable was a stern, older woman whom Liana had met during her interview two days ago.
"You think one of them put the device there?" Liana asked.
"One of them took fifty thousand dollars in untraceable cryptocurrency twenty-three days ago," Matteo said, his amber eyes glittering with a dangerous light. "The same day the hooded woman appeared on the security footage."
Liana’s blood ran cold. "Which one?"
"We don't know yet. The account was routed through three shell corporations in Zurich," Matteo replied. "But whoever took that money made a mistake. They left a secondary access log on the house’s internal Wi-Fi network at 2:15 AM three weeks ago."
He leaned closer to Liana, his presence overwhelming, warm, and intimidating all at once.
"I need to know if you recognized the hooded woman in that video, Liana," Matteo said, looking deep into her eyes. "You looked at her screen for a long time earlier. Do you know who she is?"
Liana hesitated. Her heart beat against her ribs like a drum.
"I didn't recognize her face," Liana whispered truthfully. "She was wearing a heavy dark cloak. But..."
"But what?" Matteo demanded softly.
"Her ring," Liana said, her voice barely audible. "When she reached into the crib to touch Nico’s head before hiding the device... she was wearing a silver ring on her right thumb. It was shaped like a coiled serpent with a red ruby for an eye."
Matteo went completely rigid.
The whiskey glass in his hand trembled slightly. His amber eyes widened in a rare, shocking display of pure disbelief.
"A silver serpent," Matteo whispered, his voice turning cold enough to freeze blood. "Are you absolutely certain?"
"Yes," Liana nodded. "My mother used to sell antique jewelry in Queens. I know silver work when I see it. It was a custom piece. Why? Do you know who owns it?"
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Matteo didn't answer her. He turned toward the grand floor-to-ceiling balcony windows, staring out into the dark, rain-soaked gardens below.
"That ring," Matteo said, his knuckles turning stark white as he gripped the desk, "belonged to my late wife, Elena. And she was buried wearing it seven months ago."
