Chapter 4 - THE MAID THEY PLANNED TO BLAME
“You put my name on that list?”
Sofia's voice trembled as she faced Vivian.
The blonde woman stood beneath the chandelier, surrounded by expensive flowers and people who had spent years treating her like royalty.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Vivian snapped.
Sofia held up the tablet.
“My name is right here.”
Vivian turned toward Marco.
“Are you seriously going to believe a servant over me?”
Marco's expression hardened.
“Stop calling her that.”
Vivian blinked.
“What?”
“Her name is Sofia Ramirez.”
The silence that followed was almost unbearable.
Sofia had worked in the mansion for eleven months.
Until tonight, Marco had rarely spoken directly to her.
Now the most powerful man in the room was defending her dignity in front of everyone.
But Sofia wasn't thinking about gratitude.
She was thinking about the list.
The conspirators hadn't merely expected her to witness the fall.
They had placed her where she could be blamed if the story needed another explanation.
Celia approached the tablet.
“That's impossible,” she said.
Sofia looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because I assigned you to the east dining room tonight. You weren't supposed to carry champagne near the staircase.”
Sofia frowned.
“But my schedule changed after lunch.”
“Who changed it?”
“I thought you did.”
Celia shook her head.
“I didn't.”
Gabriel examined the digital schedule.
“The adjustment was entered through the household office.”
“Then someone used my office,” Celia said.
Vivian folded her arms.
“Staff schedules change all the time. This proves nothing.”
Marco looked at Sofia.
“Why were you carrying that tray?”
“The ballroom supervisor told me the guests upstairs needed fresh glasses.”
“Who told the supervisor?”
“I don't know.”
Gabriel cleared his throat.
“We should investigate that privately.”
Marco ignored him.
Instead, he turned toward Celia.
“Is there an original schedule?”
“Yes. I keep printed copies.”
“Bring one.”
As Celia hurried away, a woman approached from the rear of the ballroom.
Dr. Naomi Price, the rehabilitation physician overseeing Marco's recovery, had been waiting in the library after his earlier medical examination.
She stopped when she saw the damaged staircase.
“Marco, what happened?”
“Someone removed the safety railing.”
Dr. Price looked horrified.
“That railing was supposed to remain until your next assessment.”
Vivian immediately interrupted.
“You told me his balance was improving!”
“His balance isn't the problem,” the doctor replied. “His ability to judge depth is still inconsistent.”
She examined Marco's injured eye.
“You shouldn't have been guided toward an unprotected staircase at all.”
Marco removed his sunglasses.
“Doctor, am I permanently disabled?”
Dr. Price frowned.
“No one has made that determination.”
“Could I return to my work?”
“With appropriate accommodations, you're already capable of many responsibilities. I sent an updated report last week.”
Marco stared at her.
“What report?”
“The one explaining that your recovery was progressing better than expected.”
Gabriel looked down at his tablet.
Marco noticed.
“I never received it.”
Dr. Price's expression changed.
“My office delivered it to the estate.”
“To whom?”
“Security reception.”
Marco slowly turned toward Gabriel.
The security chief answered immediately.
“Medical documents are routed through my department. I'll check whether it was misplaced.”
“Do that,” Marco said.
But his voice carried a warning.
Celia returned with the original staff schedule.
She placed it beside the tablet.
Sofia's name appeared clearly under EAST DINING ROOM.
Not staircase service.
Not upper landing.
Not emergency witness.
Someone had changed her assignment after the original schedule was approved.
Vivian looked toward the ballroom doors.
“I'm leaving. This has become ridiculous.”
Marco stepped into her path.
“Nobody leaves until the authorities arrive and we preserve the evidence.”
“You can't hold me here!”
“No. But you can wait in the sitting room, away from the evidence, if you want to explain your actions.”
Vivian brushed past him.
As she turned, her small gold evening purse struck the marble console.
It fell open.
A lipstick rolled across the floor.
A folded handkerchief followed.
Then something heavier struck the marble with a sharp metallic sound.
Sofia recognized it immediately.
A long brass screw.
Its head had been scratched by a screwdriver.
It looked exactly like the hardware missing from the temporary railing.
Vivian lunged toward it.
“That's mine!”
Marco reached it first.
He picked up the screw carefully using the clean handkerchief.
“Why are you carrying this?”
Vivian's face went white.
“I found it.”
“Where?”
“Near the flowers.”
“When?”
“I don't remember.”
Marco stared at her.
“You don't remember anything tonight, do you?”
Tears filled Vivian's eyes.
“You don't understand what happens if I tell you.”
For one moment, her arrogance disappeared.
She looked like someone who had been frightened for a very long time.
Marco lowered his voice.
“Then tell me what you're afraid of.”
Vivian looked toward Gabriel.
Only for a second.
But Sofia saw it.
Before anyone could speak, Celia bent to retrieve another object that had fallen from the purse.
A small folded card.
It contained tonight's event schedule.
Most of the printed instructions concerned flowers, lighting, and champagne service.
But someone had written a sentence across the bottom in dark blue ink.
Celia handed it to Marco.
He read it silently.
Then again.
Sofia watched the color leave his face.
“What does it say?” she whispered.
Marco turned the card toward her.
Keep Sofia Ramirez at the landing. If Bellini falls, she confirms he stepped forward voluntarily.
Beneath those words was an additional instruction.
If she interferes, make her responsible.
Sofia stepped backward.
They hadn't merely planned to destroy Marco.
They had prepared to destroy her reputation as well.
May you like
And Marco finally understood the terrible truth.
The woman who had saved him had been chosen as the perfect scapegoat.
