Chapter 2 - The Order That Stopped the Music
Tony stared at the motionless figure in his arms.
"Get a doctor. Now!"
Nobody moved.
His voice cut through the ballroom again.
"Did everyone suddenly forget how to understand English?"
The guests scattered. Someone called emergency services. A security guard rushed toward the kitchen to retrieve blankets.
Tony lowered Clara onto a large dining table and carefully checked her breathing.
"Clara. Open your eyes."
Nothing.
He looked up at Mrs. Gable, who stood beside the curtains with one hand pressed against her chest.
"How did she get outside?"
The housekeeper swallowed. "Sir, I believe there has been a misunderstanding."
"That's not an answer."
Lana approached, her expression carefully arranged into concern.
"Tony, darling, please. She's probably exaggerating. She was sent to look for my earring."
Tony turned toward her.
"In that?"
He pointed at the shattered windows behind him.
Lana hesitated.
"She was supposed to be outside for a minute."
"Then why is she unconscious?"
"How would I know?"
Tony looked at Clara again. Her fingers were curled tightly, and her soaked uniform was stiff with snow.
He removed his jacket and placed it over her.
"Call Dr. Bennett. Tell him it's an emergency."
His personal physician arrived twelve minutes later.
By then, Clara had been moved into the estate's heated medical room. The doctor examined her while Tony stood nearby, refusing to leave.
"Severe hypothermia," Bennett announced. "Her temperature is dangerously low. We need to transfer her to the hospital."
"Will she survive?"
The doctor paused.
"I can't promise that."
Tony's jaw tightened.
"Then don't waste another second."
An ambulance arrived, accompanied by two members of Tony's security team.
As the paramedics prepared Clara for transport, Tony noticed something clenched in her right hand.
A tiny piece of paper.
He gently opened her fingers.
It was a folded receipt from a Chicago pawnshop. On the back, someone had written a telephone number and three words.
FRIDAY. LAST CHANCE.
Tony recognized the area code.
Chicago.
He slipped the paper into his pocket.
"Who is this woman?" he asked.
Mrs. Gable answered quickly. "A temporary maid. She's been here three months."
"Where does she live?"
"Employee quarters."
"Who hired her?"
"I did, under the estate's staffing agreement."
Tony looked at her.
"Starting tonight, nobody leaves this house until I know exactly what happened."
Lana stepped forward.
"You cannot be serious. You're going to hold an entire Christmas party hostage because a maid couldn't follow instructions?"
Tony looked at her for several seconds.
Then he said something that made the room go silent.
"She's not a maid right now. She's a human being who nearly died on my property."
Lana's face hardened.
The ambulance doors closed.
Tony followed Clara to the hospital.
At 2:17 a.m., the emergency physician informed him that she was alive but remained in critical condition. Her body temperature had begun to stabilize, but the next several hours would determine whether she suffered lasting complications.
Tony stood outside her room.
He had spent years making decisions that affected hundreds of people. He had never found himself so helpless in a hospital corridor.
His phone vibrated.
A message from his chief of security, Dominic Reyes.
I checked the terrace cameras. Someone deliberately disabled the recording system.
Tony typed back.
Find out who.
A second message arrived.
There's something else. The missing earring was recovered in the ballroom. It was under the table where Lana had been sitting.
Tony read it twice.
Then he called Dominic.
"Don't confront anybody. Get me the original security logs, the staff schedules, and every recording from that floor."
"Understood."
"And Dominic?"
"Yes, boss?"
"If Clara dies, I want to know who made that possible."
The line went quiet.
When Tony returned to the waiting area, he found an older woman sitting beside the window.
She was crying.
"Mr. Moretti?"
He recognized her as Elena, one of the estate's kitchen assistants.
"What is it?"
She twisted a tissue between her fingers.
"I saw what happened. I wanted to help Clara, but Mrs. Gable threatened to fire anyone who interfered."
Tony pulled out the chair opposite her.
"Tell me everything."
Elena hesitated, then leaned forward.
"Miss Vance didn't lose that earring, sir. I saw her take it off before dinner."
Tony felt something cold settle in his stomach.
"Where did she put it?"
Elena looked directly at him.
"In her purse. I watched her do it."
Before Tony could ask another question, the door to Clara's room opened.
Dr. Bennett stepped into the corridor.
"She's conscious."
Tony was on his feet immediately.
"Can I see her?"
"Briefly. She's confused, and she needs rest. Don't overwhelm her."
Tony entered quietly.
Clara lay beneath several heated blankets, an oxygen line beneath her nose. Her face was pale, and her eyes moved uncertainly toward the doorway.
She recognized him.
Her lips trembled.
"Mr. Moretti..."
"I'm here."
"I'm sorry."
Tony frowned.
"For what?"
"I couldn't find the earring."
For the first time that night, his composure broke.
He pulled a chair beside her bed.
"Clara, listen to me. You don't owe anyone an apology."
She swallowed.
"Miss Vance said... she would tell you I stole it."
Tony leaned closer.
"Did she lock you outside?"
Clara's eyes filled with tears.
She nodded.
"Mrs. Gable said I couldn't come back until I found it."
Tony was silent.
May you like
Then Clara whispered something that changed the direction of the entire investigation.
"Mr. Moretti... I think they wanted me to die out there."
