"Did you know him?"
"Quite well."
"Do you know where he is?"
Vittorio smiled.
It was not a pleasant expression.
"People who ask too many questions often discover that answers are more dangerous than ignorance."
Sofia looked at him.
"Then perhaps you should stop giving people reasons to ask."
For a moment, nobody moved.
Raffaele seized her arm.
"Watch your mouth."
Vittorio raised one finger.
"Not here."
He stepped closer to Sofia.
"Do you still have something that belonged to your father?"
She said nothing.
"A little silver object, perhaps?"
Sofia felt the key inside her pocket.
Her father's last possession.
Her only remaining connection to him.
"No."
Vittorio watched her face.
He had spent decades recognizing lies.
He did not need to see the key.
He knew she had it.
"Take her upstairs," he said.
Raffaele tightened his grip.
Sofia pulled away.
"Don't touch me."
His response was immediate.
The slap sent her against the edge of the desk.
The tray crashed to the floor.
A champagne glass shattered.
Pain flashed across her cheek.
She tried to regain her balance, but Raffaele caught her by the collar.
"Where is the key?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
He struck her again.
This time, Sofia fell.
Her head hit the marble floor.
For several seconds, the ceiling became a blur of gold and darkness.
She heard Vittorio speaking.
"Search her."
Raffaele knelt beside her and reached into her jacket.
Sofia gathered the last of her strength and pushed his hand away.
Then she saw the service door.
It was open.
She crawled toward it.
She did not know where she was going.
She only knew she needed to get away.
Raffaele caught her ankle.
Her body twisted.
A sharp pain traveled through her side.
Then the corridor disappeared.
***
When Sofia opened her eyes again, she was lying on the ballroom floor.
The music had stopped.
A man was kneeling beside her.
His face was unfamiliar, but something in his expression made her want to cry.
"Look at me," he said.
She tried.
His eyes were dark and focused.
"Can you hear me?"
She wanted to answer.
Her lips moved, but no sound came out.
Then she felt his hand beneath her shoulders.
He lifted her.
Someone shouted in the distance.
A voice said his name.
"Alessandro!"
She recognized the name.
Everyone in Milan knew it.
The man carrying her was Alessandro Moretti.
And for reasons she could not understand, he looked angrier than the men who had hurt her.
***
The private medical suite was located on the second floor of the estate.
It had originally been designed as a guest apartment, but Alessandro had converted it years earlier after an assassination attempt left one of his closest men critically wounded.
The room contained emergency medical equipment, medication, and a private operating area.
Dr. Luca Ferraro arrived within six minutes.
He had known Alessandro since childhood and was one of the few people allowed to disagree with him without consequences.
"Put her here."
Alessandro lowered Sofia onto the medical bed.
Luca immediately examined her.
"What happened?"
"I found her on the ballroom floor."
"Was she unconscious?"
"Yes."
"Any idea how long?"
"No."
Luca looked at the bruising on her face.
"Someone hit her."
"I noticed."
"Alessandro."
The older man glanced at him.
"I need you outside."
Alessandro hesitated.
"She's injured. I am not going to argue about this."
For a moment, the two men stared at each other.
Then Alessandro stepped into the corridor.
Matteo was waiting outside.
"What happened?"
"Someone attacked a member of the staff."
"Who?"
"That's what I intend to find out."
Matteo glanced toward the medical room.
"She is the girl from the east corridor."
Alessandro turned.
"You know her?"
"I've seen her around."
"Why was she near Vittorio's private room?"
Matteo shrugged.
"Maybe she was delivering drinks."
"She was carrying a tray when she came into the ballroom?"
"No."
Alessandro looked at him.
Matteo's expression changed slightly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Alessandro, I know that look."
"Then you should know better than to ask."
Matteo lowered his voice.
"Vittorio is still downstairs."
"I know."
"He's asking questions."
"Let him."
"He's demanding to know why you interrupted the gala."
Alessandro looked toward the medical room.
"Tell him the evening is over."
Matteo frowned.
"You cannot simply dismiss everyone."
"Watch me."
***
Inside the medical suite, Sofia was beginning to regain consciousness.
Her eyes opened slowly.
The first thing she saw was a white ceiling.
The second was a doctor examining her arm.
She tried to sit up.
"Easy," Luca said.
"Where..."
"You're safe."
She looked toward the door.
"Where is he?"
"Who?"
"The man."
Luca glanced over his shoulder.
"Alessandro?"
She nodded weakly.
"He's outside."
Sofia closed her eyes.
For a moment, she seemed relieved.
Then she remembered.
"The key."
Luca leaned closer.
"What key?"
She touched the pocket of her jacket.
It was empty.
Panic replaced exhaustion.
"No."
She tried to sit up again.
"My key. I need my key."
"Please remain still."
"Someone took it."
Luca exchanged a glance with the nurse.
"Who took it?"
Sofia shook her head.
She could not explain.
Not yet.
The door opened.
Alessandro entered.
He had removed his jacket. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, revealing dark tattoos along his skin.
Sofia immediately became tense.
"Who are you?"
"Alessandro Moretti."
She stared at him.
"Why am I here?"
"Because you collapsed in my ballroom."
"Did you call the police?"
"No."