Chapter 7 - The Poisoned Cup
The council did not wait long to strike back.
Realizing they couldn't defeat Victor in open combat, they decided to strike from within the Romano estate itself.
Two weeks after the council meeting, the estate was preparing for a grand charity dinner hosted by Victor—a public event meant to showcase his legal business ventures to politicians and corporate leaders.
Tessa stood in front of the mirror in the East Wing, wearing a breathtaking floor-length dark blue silk gown, her hair styled in soft waves.
The door opened, and Sarah—a young kitchen servant whom Tessa had known during her maid days—stepped inside, carrying a silver tray with two glasses of vintage red wine.
"Tessa... I mean, Miss Moore," Sarah said nervously, her hands trembling as she held the tray. "Mr. Romano sent these up. He said to drink a toast with him before you come downstairs."
Tessa smiled warmly at her former coworker. "Sarah, please don't call me Miss Moore. I'm still just Tessa."
"No... you're not," Sarah whispered, her eyes darting nervously toward the floor. "Please... drink the wine. Mr. Romano wants you to finish it before you descend the stairs."
Tessa picked up the crystal glass. She raised it to her lips, but as she did, she noticed a subtle, oily residue floating on the surface of the dark red liquid. Her nursing classes had included basic pharmacology modules—and the bitter, faint almond scent hitting her nose was instantly recognizable.
Cyanide.
Tessa froze. She looked at Sarah.
Sarah’s face went completely pale, tears streaming down her cheeks. She dropped the silver tray with a loud crash.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Tessa!" Sarah sobbed, dropping to her knees. "Don Carmine’s men have my little brother! They told me if I didn't put the powder in your glass tonight, they would kill him!"
Tessa set the poisoned glass down on the vanity table. Her heart pounded, but she didn't panic.
She dropped to her knees beside Sarah, grabbing her shoulders. "Sarah, listen to me carefully. Where is your brother?"
"At... at the old warehouse near Pier 4," Sarah choked out. "They're holding him until the gala ends..."
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Tessa stood up, her jaw set with determination. She didn't call the guards. She grabbed her heavy coat from the closet, wrapped it over her silk gown, and picked up the small pistol Victor had insisted on teaching her how to shoot last week.
She was done being a victim. She was done letting innocent people suffer because of mafia wars.
