Marco's smile disappeared.
For a brief moment, the two men regarded each other in silence.
Then Alessandro closed the folder.
"Find out everything about the waitress."
Marco raised an eyebrow.
"The waitress?"
"Elena. The one Bellini was humiliating."
"Why?"
"I want to know whether this is the first time."
Marco leaned back.
"You're investigating a hotel employee because she dropped three glasses?"
"I'm investigating Bellini."
"Of course."
Alessandro gave him a cold look.
Marco lifted both hands.
"Understood."
But as Alessandro turned toward the window, he found himself remembering Elena's expression.
She had been afraid.
He recognized fear.
What he could not understand was why she had looked more ashamed of making a mistake than angry about being humiliated.
There had been something familiar in that.
Something he could not place.
***
Elena returned to the service corridor with a tight feeling in her stomach.
She had worked at the Belladonna for eleven months.
It was not her dream job, but it paid the rent on the small apartment she shared with her younger brother, Daniel. It also provided enough money for his university expenses and the medication he needed after a childhood heart condition had left him with recurring complications.
She could not afford to lose it.
Her mother had died when Elena was nineteen. Her father had disappeared long before that.
Since then, she had become Daniel's guardian in everything except the legal paperwork.
She had learned to stretch money, swallow insults, and keep moving.
Her life was built around small calculations.
How many shifts remained before rent was due?
How much could she save if she stopped buying lunch?
Would Daniel's latest medical bill leave enough money for electricity?
Tonight, she had made an expensive mistake.
She entered the staff changing room and sat on the wooden bench.
Her hands were trembling.
Not because of Bellini.
Because of the man who had defended her.
Don Alessandro Moretti.
She had heard the name before.
Everyone in the city had.
There were stories about him. Some said he had inherited a criminal empire. Others claimed he had forced three rival families into a peace agreement without firing a single shot.
One newspaper had once described him as a businessman with an unusually private lifestyle.
Another had called him the most dangerous young man in the city.
Elena did not know which version was true.
She only knew that Bellini had been terrified of him.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
She looked up.
"Come in."
Sofia, another waitress, entered and closed the door behind her.
"Are you all right?"
Elena managed a tired smile.
"I'm fine."
"Bellini is furious."
"He'll get over it."
Sofia shook her head.
"You don't understand. He was summoned to the manager's office."
Elena frowned.
"Why?"
"Apparently someone complained about the way he treated you."
"Who?"
Sofia gave her a meaningful look.
"Who do you think?"
Elena lowered her eyes.
"I don't want trouble."
"Then you should never have been born with a face people notice."
Elena laughed softly.
"That's a terrible compliment."
"It's the only kind I have."
Sofia sat beside her.
"Listen. I heard something else."
"What?"
"Bellini has been taking money from the private accounts. Small amounts. For months."
Elena looked at her.
"How do you know?"
"My cousin works in accounting."
"That's serious."
"Very."
Sofia leaned closer.
"And I think he knows someone is checking."
Elena considered this.
"Maybe that's why he's been so nervous lately."
"Maybe."
A silence followed.
Then Sofia touched Elena's wrist.
"Just be careful. People who steal from powerful men don't usually enjoy being discovered."
Elena nodded.
She was about to answer when the door opened.
Bellini stood there.
His expression was almost pleasant.
"Elena. The manager wants to see you."
Sofia immediately stood.
"Is something wrong?"
Bellini ignored her.
"Now."
Elena rose.
She straightened her uniform and followed him.
***
The manager's office overlooked the hotel's central courtyard.
It was a luxurious room with dark wooden furniture, a large painting of the Italian coast, and a glass cabinet containing awards from hospitality organizations.
Mr. Harrison, the general manager, sat behind his desk.
Bellini stood near the window.
Elena entered.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
Harrison gestured toward a chair.
"Please sit."
Elena remained standing.
"Is this about the glasses?"
"Partly."
Bellini folded his arms.
"She understands the damage she caused."
Harrison glanced at him.
"I'll handle this, Mr. Bellini."
The maître d' fell silent.
Harrison opened a folder.
"Elena, there have been several complaints about your conduct."
She blinked.
"My conduct?"
"Yes."
"What complaints?"
"Failure to follow instructions. Poor attention to detail. Inappropriate interactions with guests."
Elena stared at him.
"Sir, I've never received a written warning."
"That doesn't mean there haven't been concerns."
Bellini shifted his weight.
Elena understood.
This was not about the glasses.
"Am I being dismissed?"
Harrison hesitated.
"Your employment is under review."
"Because I dropped a tray?"
"Because there have been several issues."
"Could I see the complaints?"
Bellini laughed.
"You're in no position to demand documents."
Elena looked at him.
"Then perhaps I could at least know what I supposedly did wrong."
Harrison closed the folder.
"That's enough. You may return to your duties."
Elena remained still.
"Am I suspended?"
"No."
"Then why was I called here?"
Bellini stepped forward.
"Because you need to understand that your position is not guaranteed."
Elena looked at Harrison.
He did not meet her eyes.
Something inside her settled.
She had spent almost a year trying to please people who had already decided she was replaceable.
"Understood," she said.
She turned and walked out.
Bellini watched her leave.
Then he closed the office door.
"She is becoming difficult."
Harrison rubbed his forehead.
"She was defended by the owner."
"That doesn't mean we have to keep her."
Harrison looked at him.
"Do you have any idea what Moretti is investigating?"
Bellini's jaw tightened.
"No."
"Then I suggest you stop giving him reasons to become interested."
Bellini smiled.
It was a thin, unpleasant smile.
"Some problems disappear if you remove the person causing them."
Harrison looked at him for a long moment.
"Be very careful what you say in this office."
Bellini said nothing.
But his mind had already moved elsewhere.
***
Two days later, Alessandro received a report.
Elena Moretti.
Twenty-four years old.
No relation to the Moretti family.
Father's whereabouts unknown.
Mother deceased.
Younger brother, Daniel, twenty years old, studying architecture.
No criminal record.
No outstanding legal issues.
Excellent employment record.
Two formal commendations from previous employers.
One curious detail.
Her father had once worked as an accountant for a company owned by Vittorio Moretti.
Alessandro read that line twice.
"Marco."
His consigliere entered.
"You found something?"
"Her father."
Marco placed another folder on the desk.
"His name is Thomas Vale. He worked for your father nearly twenty years ago."
"Doing what?"
"Financial administration. He left suddenly after an internal investigation."
Alessandro looked up.
"What investigation?"
"Your father never discussed it publicly."
"Did he steal?"
"That's what the old records suggest."
"How much?"
Marco hesitated.
"Enough to cause serious problems."
Alessandro closed the folder.
"And Elena?"
"She was a child. There's no indication she knew anything."
"Where is her father?"
"Officially, missing."
"Unofficially?"
Marco studied him.
"That is more complicated."
Alessandro leaned back.
"Explain."
"Thomas Vale was last seen shortly after the night your father was shot."
The room became quiet.
Alessandro's fingers stopped moving.
His father had died eleven years earlier.
The official report said Vittorio Moretti had been killed during a confrontation with a rival organization.
But Alessandro had never believed the complete story.
There had been too many missing documents.
Too many contradictory witness statements.
Too many men who had suddenly become wealthy.
"Why didn't I know about this?"
"Because your father sealed the investigation."
"Who requested it?"
Marco did not answer immediately.
Then he said, "Your uncle."
Alessandro's expression hardened.
Salvatore Moretti.
Vittorio's younger brother.
The man who had raised Alessandro after his father's death.
The man who had stood beside him at the funeral and promised that the family would never abandon him.
The man who had spent eleven years telling him which enemies to fear.
Alessandro looked down at the photograph attached to the file.
A younger Thomas Vale stood beside Vittorio in front of a construction project.
Between them was a little girl with dark hair.
Elena.
Alessandro stared at the photograph.
"Find her father."
Marco nodded.
"And keep this away from Salvatore."
His consigliere's expression changed.
"You're beginning to suspect your uncle?"
"I'm beginning to suspect everyone."
***
Elena's next shift began at six in the evening.
The Belladonna was hosting a private charity auction attended by politicians, business executives, and several families whose names appeared frequently in newspapers but rarely in police investigations.
Elena was assigned to the main dining hall.
She kept her eyes on her work.
She did not want another encounter with Bellini.
At eight thirty, the double doors opened.
Alessandro entered.
This time, he was accompanied by Marco and four security men.
Conversation faded.
Several guests rose from their seats.
Alessandro acknowledged them with brief nods.
He did not smile.
He did not need to.
Elena watched him from the service station.
A man like that could change the temperature of a room simply by entering it.
She lowered her eyes and returned to arranging glasses.
"Miss Elena."
She turned.
One of the security men stood beside her.