Chapter 2 - The Mafia Boss Asks the Question Nobody Expected
Dragan entered the mansion just after nine.
The household staff immediately became alert.
Theodore Hawthorne came down the main staircase to greet him.
“Dragan. I wasn't expecting you.”
“I know.”
Theodore smiled.
“That sounds ominous.”
“Where is Nadia?”
Theodore blinked.
“Nadia?”
“Yes.”
“She should be working.”
Clarissa appeared behind Theodore.
“She is in the east wing.”
Dragan looked at her.
“I didn't ask you.”
The smile on Clarissa’s face vanished.
Theodore noticed.
“Is there a problem?”
“There may be.”
Dragan walked toward the east wing.
He found Nadia polishing a silver tray.
She looked up when he entered.
Her face immediately became nervous.
“Mr. Kovac.”
“Dragan.”
She hesitated.
“Dragan.”
He looked at the tray.
Then at her hands.
“You didn't sleep.”
Nadia blinked.
“What?”
“You look exhausted.”
“I’m fine.”
“I didn't ask whether you were fine.”
She put the cloth down.
“I had a lot to do.”
“Sit.”
“I should finish this.”
“Sit.”
There was no anger in his voice.
Still, she obeyed.
Dragan pulled a chair across from her.
“How long have you worked here?”
“Seven years.”
“Why?”
She looked confused.
“Because they hired me.”
“No.”
He waited.
“Why did you stay?”
Nadia looked toward the windows.
“My sister.”
Dragan nodded.
“What about her?”
“She needs me.”
“Tell me.”
Nadia hesitated.
Then explained Mila’s medical history.
Dragan listened without interruption.
When she finished, he asked, “Does Theodore still pay for her treatment?”
“No. Everything is covered now.”
“By whom?”
Nadia looked uncomfortable.
“I don't know.”
Dragan understood immediately.
Theodore had not told her.
That mattered.
“What do you know about your mother's death?”
Nadia went completely still.
“What?”
“Your mother.”
“How do you know about her?”
“I investigated.”
“Why?”
Dragan leaned back.
“Because I think your mother’s death may not have been an accident.”
Nadia stared at him.
For eleven years, everyone had told her the same thing.
Faulty wiring.
Old equipment.
A terrible accident.
She had accepted it because there was nothing else to accept.
“Who told you?”
“No one.”
“Then why?”
Dragan placed a photograph on the table.
Nadia recognized the building immediately.
The sewing workshop.
The same workshop where her mother had worked.
Her hands trembled.
“Where did you get this?”
“From an old investigation.”
Nadia stared.
“There were other deaths that night.”
“Yes.”
“Six people.”
“Seven.”
She looked up.
“Seven?”
“The official record says six.”
Dragan’s expression hardened.
“Someone removed a seventh name.”
Nadia swallowed.
“Whose?”
He looked at her.
“Anton Voskin.”
Nadia stopped breathing.
That was her father’s name.
Except her father had never been listed as a worker.
She had been told he left before she was born.
Her mother had refused to talk about him.
“You knew my father?”
“No.”
“Then why is his name there?”
“I’m trying to find out.”
Nadia stood.
“You think my father died in that fire?”
“I think he was there.”
Her mind raced.
All those years of unanswered questions.
All those nights wondering why her mother never talked about him.
A knock interrupted them.
Dario entered.
“Boss.”
Dragan looked at him.
“What?”
“We found something.”
Dario glanced at Nadia.
Dragan nodded.
“Say it.”
“We recovered part of the original incident report.”
Dario placed a folder on the table.
“There was a security camera inside the building.”
Nadia’s heart pounded.
“Camera footage?”
“Most of it was destroyed.”
Dragan opened the folder.
“One frame survived.”
He showed Nadia the photograph.
It was grainy.
Smoky.
Almost impossible to understand.
But one figure stood near a rear door.
A man.
And beside him—
A woman.
Nadia leaned closer.
Her eyes widened.
“That’s my mother.”
The man beside her was younger.
He appeared to be arguing with her.
Then Nadia saw his face.
She knew him.
Not personally.
From photographs.
“Theodore Hawthorne.”
Dragan looked at her.
“Yes.”
Nadia stepped backward.
“No.”
Dario looked at Dragan.
Dragan remained calm.
“This photograph doesn't prove Theodore started the fire.”
“But he was there.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Nadia’s breathing grew faster.
Dragan stood.
“Slow down.”
“What happened to my mother?”
“I will find out.”
“You expect me to believe you?”
“No.”
He walked toward her.
“I expect you to ask questions.”
She stared at him.
“Why do you care?”
Dragan's eyes held hers.
“Because someone lied to you.”
He turned toward the door.
Nadia spoke.
“Dragan.”
He stopped.
“Why did you stop Clarissa yesterday?”
His shoulders became still.
“Because she was wrong.”
“That’s all?”
“No.”
He looked back.
“You had no one else standing there.”
Nadia felt something move inside her.
She had spent her life assuming no one would ever stand between her and cruelty.
Now there was a man who did it without asking for anything in return.
That frightened her almost as much as Clarissa.
Meanwhile, Clarissa was listening outside the study.
She had heard enough.
Theodore found her moments later.
“Clarissa?”
She turned.
“Where were you?”
“Looking for you.”
He smiled.
She didn't.
“What is it?”
“Dragan is investigating Nadia.”
Theodore's face changed.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Clarissa stepped closer.
“Maybe because she is not what she claims to be.”
Theodore frowned.
“Nadia?”
“She has secrets.”
“She has lived here seven years.”
“That doesn't make her innocent.”
Theodore studied Clarissa.
“What are you implying?”
Clarissa smiled.
“Nothing.”
But her mind was already moving.
Nadia was a threat.
Not because of her beauty.
Not because of her intelligence.
Because Dragan cared.
And Clarissa could not tolerate a woman with nothing gaining the attention of a man she considered hers.
That afternoon, Nadia entered the greenhouse to collect flowers.
Clarissa followed.
“Still enjoying your special treatment?”
Nadia turned.
“I don't know what you mean.”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“I have work.”
Clarissa grabbed the basket.
“Give me that.”
Nadia released it.
Clarissa smiled.
“You're frightened of me.”
Nadia said nothing.
“You should be.”
A voice came from behind them.
“No.”
Both women turned.
Dragan stood at the entrance.
Clarissa stiffened.
“You should be frightened of me,” he said to Clarissa.
Silence.
He walked toward them.
“Step away from Nadia.”
Clarissa laughed.
“You can't keep doing this.”
“I can.”
“This is Theodore's house.”
Dragan looked toward the ceiling.
“Then let Theodore come tell me to leave.”
Nobody spoke.
Clarissa stepped back.
Dragan turned toward Nadia.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“To the hospital.”
She blinked.
“Why?”
“Your sister is there.”
Nadia's face went pale.
“What happened?”
Dragan's expression hardened.
“She disappeared.”
Nadia dropped the basket.
And for the first time since her mother died, the careful wall she had built around herself shattered.
She ran.
Dragan followed.
But when they reached the hospital, Mila was not missing.
She was safe in a private room.
Confused.
And beside her sat Theodore Hawthorne.
Theodore stood when Nadia entered.
“I brought her here.”
Nadia stopped.
“Why?”
He looked toward Dragan.
“Because someone tried to break into your apartment.”
Dragan's jaw tightened.
“What?”
Theodore nodded.
“They were looking for something.”
Nadia stared at him.
“What?”
Theodore looked directly at her.
“I don't know.”
Dragan stepped forward.
“But I think I do.”
He looked at Nadia.
May you like
“Your mother left something behind.”
And somewhere in the city, Clarissa was already searching for it.
