Chapter 2 - THE CUP OF TEA THAT NEARLY KILLED HIS MOTHER
Marco Bellini should have been irritated.
Instead, he found himself watching his mother laugh at something a twenty-eight-year-old cook had said.
It was a small laugh. Barely more than a breath.
But for a man who had spent three months watching his mother disappear into grief, it sounded like a miracle.
Elena Bellini reached across the dinner table and touched Anna Brooks's hand.
"Your grandmother must have been a wonderful cook."
Anna smiled.
"Actually, I learned most of my cooking from a woman who wasn't related to me."
"Teresa Ricci," Elena said softly.
"Yes."
Elena's smile faded.
Marco noticed immediately.
"Mother?"
Elena looked toward the windows.
"Teresa was my best friend before I married your father. We grew up three blocks apart. Her family owned a bakery on Grand Avenue."
"I know," Anna replied.
Elena turned back.
"You know?"
"She told me."
For several seconds, Elena studied the young woman.
Then she asked a question that changed the atmosphere around the table.
"Did Teresa tell you why she stopped visiting this house?"
Anna's fingers tightened around the serving spoon.
"No, ma'am."
Elena lowered her eyes.
"Of course she didn't."
Marco leaned forward.
"What happened between you two?"
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with."
His mother had used those exact words throughout his childhood whenever something was wrong.
He recognized them now.
Before he could press further, the dining room door opened.
Marianne Cole, the Bellini family's longtime house manager, entered carrying a silver tea service.
At fifty-six, Marianne was immaculate in a charcoal dress, with silver-streaked hair pinned tightly behind her head.
She had managed the estate for nearly fifteen years.
Marco trusted her to know everything from his mother's medical appointments to which security gates required maintenance.
"Your evening tea, Mrs. Bellini."
Elena's expression tightened.
"I'm not thirsty."
Marianne smiled patiently.
"Doctor's orders, ma'am. You know how important your routine is."
She poured a pale amber liquid into Elena's cup.
Anna noticed something.
The tea smelled different.
Not like the chamomile and honey listed on the kitchen's evening schedule.
Something sharper lingered beneath the sweetness.
She glanced at the little glass bottle Marianne slipped back into her pocket.
Marco was discussing tomorrow's appointments with his mother and saw nothing.
Anna stepped forward.
"Mrs. Bellini, would you like some lemon cake with that?"
Elena looked surprised.
"I don't think I could eat another bite."
"Just a little."
Anna reached for the teacup.
Marianne caught her wrist.
"Leave it."
The words were quiet.
The grip wasn't.
Anna looked down at Marianne's fingers.
"I was only going to move the cup."
"Then move the cake instead."
Marco stopped speaking.
His gaze shifted between the two women.
"Is there a problem?"
Marianne released Anna.
"None whatsoever."
But Anna had already seen enough.
Elena raised the cup.
Anna made a decision.
"Mrs. Bellini, please don't drink that."
The room fell silent.
Marianne turned sharply.
"Excuse me?"
Anna kept her eyes on Elena.
"Something isn't right with the tea."
Marianne laughed once.
"Mr. Bellini, this girl has been here three weeks, and now she's questioning your mother's medication."
"Medication?" Anna repeated.
Marianne's face changed.
Only for a moment.
But Marco saw it.
"What medication?"
Marianne straightened.
"A mild prescription supplement. Dr. Heller ordered it."
Marco's voice became colder.
"Dr. Heller told me Mother was receiving nutritional support. He never mentioned adding anything to her tea."
"It's perfectly harmless."
"Then you won't mind explaining what's in that bottle."
Marianne didn't move.
Dominic Russo, standing near the dining room entrance, took one step forward.
"Mrs. Cole."
Slowly, Marianne removed a small amber bottle from her pocket.
The label was partially covered by her thumb.
Anna noticed that, too.
Marco held out his hand.
"Give it to me."
Marianne obeyed.
The moment he read the label, his expression hardened.
"Why is my mother receiving a prescription sedative?"
Elena stared at him.
"A what?"
Marianne spoke quickly.
"It's to help her sleep."
"Then why wasn't I told?"
"Dr. Heller said it might be better not to alarm you."
Marco looked at Dominic.
"Call the doctor. Now."
Then he turned to Anna.
"How did you know?"
"I didn't."
"Then why did you stop her?"
Anna hesitated.
"Because I've watched Mrs. Bellini refuse food after drinking her evening tea. Tonight, she was finally enjoying dinner. I didn't want anything making her sick again."
Marco studied her.
It was a reasonable answer.
It was also incomplete.
He could tell.
"Dominic, have the tea tested. No one gives my mother anything until we know exactly what's happening."
Marianne's face drained.
For the first time since Anna had arrived at the estate, the house manager looked genuinely frightened.
And Anna knew the evening was far from over.
At 10:14 that night, Elena asked Anna to come upstairs.
The bedroom was enormous, filled with antique furniture, silk curtains, and framed photographs of a family that had once appeared happy.
Elena sat beside a photograph of her late husband.
Vittorio Bellini had been a powerful man.
He had also possessed the rare ability to make his wife smile simply by entering a room.
Until three months earlier.
Until the night he died.
Anna approached quietly.
"Are you feeling all right?"
Elena nodded.
"Better than I have in weeks."
She took Anna's hand.
"Tell me something. Did Teresa send you here?"
Anna froze.
That was answer enough.
Elena closed her eyes.
"Oh, Teresa."
"Mrs. Bellini, I didn't come here to hurt anyone."
"I know, sweetheart."
"She told me you weren't eating. She was worried about you."
Elena looked up.
"Why didn't she come herself?"
Anna swallowed.
"She said she wasn't welcome."
A tear slipped down Elena's cheek.
"She was always welcome."
"She didn't believe that."
Elena stared at her husband's photograph.
"Your generation doesn't know the half of what happened in this family."
Anna sat beside her.
"Then tell me."
For a long moment, Elena said nothing.
Finally, she whispered, "Teresa and I stopped speaking seventeen years ago. Vittorio told me she had stolen money from us."
"Did she?"
Elena shook her head.
"I never believed it."
"Then why didn't you defend her?"
"Because my husband showed me documents. Bank statements. Signed checks. Everything looked real."
Her voice broke.
"I chose my marriage over my friend."
Anna thought of Teresa Ricci, a proud woman who repaired her own shoes and refused charity even when her bakery struggled.
Stealing money made no sense.
"Did Mrs. Ricci ever explain?"
"She tried. But someone intercepted her letters."
"Who?"
Elena stared at Anna.
"I don't know."
Then her expression changed.
She gripped Anna's wrist.
"Wait. There was something Teresa told me before your first day here."
Anna leaned closer.
"What?"
"She called me about a month after Vittorio died. She said she had found something he left behind."
"What did she find?"
Elena's breathing quickened.
"A black notebook. She said it contained names."
Anna felt the room grow cold.
"Whose names?"
"People my husband was afraid of."
Suddenly, Elena's eyes filled with terror.
"And one of those people was living in this house."
Downstairs, Marco was watching surveillance footage when Dominic entered.
"Dr. Heller isn't answering."
"Keep calling."
"His office says he's traveling."
"Where?"
"They don't know."
Marco turned toward him.
"His office doesn't know where a physician treating my mother is traveling?"
Dominic remained silent.
Marco pointed at the monitor.
"Show me every recording of Marianne preparing Mother's tea."
Dominic searched the archive.
At first, the footage appeared ordinary.
Marianne entering the kitchen.
Marianne retrieving a tray.
Marianne speaking with staff.
Then Dominic found a recording from eleven nights earlier.
Marianne stood beside the service counter with her back toward the camera.
She removed a bottle from her pocket.
Added something to a cup.
Then looked directly into the security camera.
Marco leaned forward.
"She knew the camera was there."
"Yes."
"Why would she do that?"
Dominic rewound the recording.
Marianne wasn't looking at the camera.
She was looking past it.
Toward someone standing outside the frame.
A man's voice emerged faintly through the audio.
"Make sure she doesn't remember."
Marco stopped breathing.
He knew that voice.
His cousin.
Luca Bellini.
The same man who had helped arrange Vittorio's funeral.
The same man who had promised to take care of Elena when Marco was away.
Dominic lowered the volume.
"Boss..."
Marco stood.
"Find Luca."
His phone rang before Dominic could answer.
An unfamiliar number appeared.
Marco accepted the call.
A woman's voice spoke through heavy static.
"Mr. Bellini?"
"Who is this?"
"My name is Teresa Ricci."
Marco went still.
"What do you want?"
"Anna Brooks works for you."
"Yes."
"Then listen carefully. She is in more danger than she understands."
Marco glanced toward the doorway.
"Where are you?"
"There's something you need to know about your father's death."
His grip tightened.
"My father died of cardiac arrest."
Teresa's next words destroyed that certainty.
"No, Marco. Your father was murdered."
The line crackled.
"And whoever killed him has been slowly poisoning your mother."
A loud crash came through the phone.
Teresa gasped.
Then a man's voice said, "You've talked enough."
The call disconnected.
Marco stared at the dead screen.
And upstairs, Elena Bellini suddenly screamed.
Marco reached his mother's bedroom in seconds.
Anna was kneeling beside the bed.
Elena was trembling.
On the pillow lay a small white envelope that had been pushed beneath her door.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed Vittorio Bellini lying motionless on his study floor.
The timestamp was 11:46 p.m.
According to his death certificate, he had died at 10:12.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written six words.
YOUR HUSBAND WASN'T DEAD WHEN THEY SAID.
Marco looked at the photograph.
Then at his mother.
Elena covered her mouth.
May you like
And whispered the name she had been terrified to say.
"Luca."
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