She looked at the glass lying near his chair.
Then she looked at Vittorio.
He was no longer smiling.
"Call emergency services!" she shouted.
Luca pulled out his phone.
Elena began following the emergency procedures she remembered from her hospital training, refusing to let the panic around her dictate her movements.
"Sir, can you hear me?"
Alessandro's eyelids moved.
"Stay with me."
She looked up.
"Does anyone know what he drank?"
Nobody answered.
"His medication? Does he have any medical conditions?"
Luca knelt beside her.
"He's allergic to several medications. His doctor keeps a file."
"Get it."
"Enzo!"
Enzo was already moving toward the exit.
Luca noticed.
"Where are you going?"
"To get the doctor!"
"Then use the phone!"
Enzo stopped.
For the first time that evening, his face showed genuine fear.
Not for Alessandro.
For himself.
Elena leaned close to the fallen man.
"Can you hear me?"
His lips moved.
She brought her ear closer.
"Trust..."
"What?"
"Trust... no one."
His hand fell.
Elena looked at him.
Then, very slowly, she turned toward the table where Vittorio sat.
The older brother stood and adjusted his jacket.
"Everyone, please remain calm," he announced. "My brother has suffered a medical episode. We will handle this privately."
Elena stared at him.
"Privately?"
Vittorio looked down at her.
"Excuse me?"
"He needs an ambulance."
"An ambulance is unnecessary."
"He's barely breathing."
"His personal physician is on his way."
Elena's voice became colder.
"Then your physician can meet the ambulance at the hospital."
A murmur spread through the guests.
Nobody spoke to Vittorio Moretti like that.
He stepped closer.
"Young lady, I appreciate your concern. But you should return to your duties."
Elena did not move.
"He's my patient right now."
Vittorio's eyes narrowed.
"Your patient?"
"I know what I'm doing."
"You're a maid."
"And you're standing over a man who needs help."
The room became silent.
Luca looked at her.
Then at Vittorio.
Something in the bodyguard's expression changed.
"Call the ambulance," he said.
Vittorio turned sharply.
"Luca."
"Now."
The older brother stared at him.
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Then the sound of sirens began rising from the street below.
***
The paramedics arrived seven minutes later.
Seven minutes that felt longer than the eleven years Elena had spent trying to understand her father's death.
They entered through the main doors carrying medical equipment.
A man in a dark uniform knelt beside Alessandro.
"Sir, can you hear me?"
Elena moved aside.
"He collapsed suddenly. He had been sitting at the table when he became unresponsive. His pulse was weak when I checked it."
"Do you know what he may have ingested?"
"No."
"Any known allergies?"
"His bodyguard says he has several."
Luca handed over a small medical card.
The paramedic read it quickly.
"Thank you. We need room."
They began working.
A second paramedic prepared the stretcher.
The guests watched as Alessandro was lifted carefully.
Vittorio approached.
"I'm his brother. I'll accompany him."
Luca stepped between them.
"Not without me."
Vittorio's eyes hardened.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm going with him."
"I am his family."
"So am I, in a manner of speaking."
"You work for him."
"Exactly."
The paramedics pushed the stretcher toward the entrance.
Elena stood beside a fallen silver tray.
She watched Alessandro's hand hanging over the side.
His signet ring caught the chandelier light.
The black rose.
The crown.
Something about it seemed familiar.
Then she remembered.
Her father had drawn that symbol in the margin of an old notebook shortly before he died.
She had been thirteen.
He had been sitting at their kitchen table, looking through a collection of financial documents.
He had asked her to bring him a glass of water.
When she returned, he had covered the papers.
"Elena," he had said, "if anyone ever asks you about the black rose, tell them you know nothing."
She had laughed.
"What's the black rose?"
He had not laughed with her.
"Nothing good."
Two weeks later, he was dead.
The paramedics carried Alessandro through the doors.
Elena suddenly realized that she was staring at the ring of a man whose family might know exactly why her father had died.
And perhaps, just perhaps, the man who had collapsed was the only person who could tell her the truth.
"Miss?"
She turned.
Mrs. Bell stood behind her.
"What have you done?"
Elena blinked.
"Nothing."
"You've created a scene in front of the most important guests in this building."
"He needed help."
"You're dismissed."
Elena looked at her.
"You're firing me?"
"Effective immediately."
Outside, the ambulance doors closed.
The sirens began again.
Elena looked toward the street.
Then toward the empty table.
She had spent eleven years trying to find a door into the Moretti family's world.
Tonight, the door had opened.
And it was closing again.
She untied her apron.
Placed it on the nearest chair.
And walked out into the rain.
***
At St. Catherine's Hospital, Alessandro Moretti was taken directly into the emergency department.
Luca followed the stretcher until a nurse stopped him.
"Family only."