The Panic Room Beneath the East Wing
Chapter 09 - The Panic Room Beneath the East Wing
Cesare Romano came out of the panic room at 2:14 in the morning.
Not because Dominic dragged him out.
Because police did.
That distinction mattered.
The hidden room sat behind a paneled wall beneath Cesare’s private study.
Food.
Water.
Cash.
Two passports.
A burner phone.
One old photograph of Dominic and Julian as boys.
And a velvet ring box.
Inside:
The silver serpent ring Sophie remembered.
Detective Morales placed it in evidence.
Dominic stared.
“So she was right.”
Morales nodded.
“Looks that way.”
Julian had apparently returned the ring at some point.
Or Cesare had recovered it.
That answer would have to wait.
Cesare emerged handcuffed.
He looked smaller without his cane.
Older.
Less like the man who had governed family dinners for thirty years and more like somebody’s tired uncle.
That was dangerous in its own way.
People expected evil to look obvious.
Sometimes it wore a cardigan.
Cesare saw Dominic.
“You let police inside.”
“Yes.”
“Into this house.”
“Yes.”
“Your father would—”
“My father is dead.”
Cesare’s mouth tightened.
“So is your wife.”
Dominic moved before thought.
One step.
Then stopped.
Olivia stood at the top of the stairs.
Grace beside her.
Watching.
Always watching.
Dominic stepped back.
Morales saw.
So did Cesare.
The older man almost smiled.
“Isabelle finally trained you.”
Dominic’s voice went quiet.
“No.”
He looked at his daughter.
“My children did.”
Cesare’s smile disappeared.
Morales took him to the study for initial questioning.
Attorney requested.
Statement limited.
Still, Cesare talked.
Old men with collapsing worlds often did.
He admitted meeting Isabelle at the preschool.
Admitted bringing Julian.
Admitted stealing Dominic’s Beretta months earlier.
Admitted moving money through the children’s charity.
“What was the plan?” Morales asked.
“To get the documents.”
“From Isabelle.”
“Yes.”
“By force?”
“If necessary.”
Dominic stood behind the observation glass with Grace.
She had chosen to stay for the girls, who were upstairs with a trauma therapist Morales had called from county services.
Not another expert hired by Dominic.
Independent.
That mattered.
Cesare continued.
“Isabelle was going federal.”
“Why kill her?”
“I did not go there to kill her.”
Morales did not react.
“What changed?”
“She would not give me the file.”
“So you shot her.”
“She reached for Peter’s weapon.”
Grace went still.
Morales said:
“The photograph shows your arm extended.”
Cesare looked at the table.
“She moved.”
“Did you fire?”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
There.
No more doubt.
“Why put Dominic’s gun in Julian’s hand?”
“To create options.”
The phrase disgusted Grace.
Dominic felt it too.
“What options?” Morales asked.
“If Julian ran, he could carry blame.”
“And Dominic?”
“If needed.”
“You planned to frame your nephew for his wife’s murder.”
Cesare’s face hardened.
“I planned for the family to survive.”
Grace whispered through the glass:
“There it is.”
Dominic looked at her.
“What?”
“The sentence people use when they want cruelty to sound necessary.”
He said nothing.
Cesare continued.
“Isabelle wanted to destroy everything.”
“The charity theft?”
“Business. Men. Contracts.”
“She wanted crimes exposed.”
“She wanted Dominic to choose her over blood.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
Grace looked at him.
Cesare smiled bitterly.
“She was leaving.”
Dominic’s face changed.
“What?”
The microphone carried nothing from behind the glass, but Cesare somehow seemed to sense him.
“She had bags packed.”
Grace watched Dominic.
Pain moved across his face.
Not anger.
Worse.
Morales asked:
“Leaving where?”
“Connecticut first. Then maybe Boston.”
“With the girls?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she was afraid Dominic would never leave the organization.”
Dominic sat.
Grace did not touch him.
Good.
Cesare continued.
“She told me she would take the children until he chose.”
Morales’s expression stayed neutral.
“And that justified murder?”
“No.”
Cesare looked tired.
“It justified stopping her.”
“There is no legal difference there that helps you.”
Cesare almost laughed.
“Legal.”
He looked toward the mirror.
“Ask Dominic what law meant to him after Isabelle died.”
Dominic went still.
Grace noticed.
Cesare continued.
“He burned half the Vitale world looking for revenge.”
Morales frowned.
“What are you alleging?”
Cesare leaned back.
“That my nephew punished men who had nothing to do with her murder.”
Dominic looked down.
Grace’s chest tightened.
She had known he was dangerous.
Knowing in general was easier than knowing names.
Cesare smiled toward the glass.
“Tell her, Dominic.”
Grace looked at him.
He did not pretend confusion.
“I believed the Vitales ordered it.”
“What did you do?”
Silence.
“Dominic.”
His voice became rough.
“I ordered people brought in.”
“Threatened?”
“Yes.”
“Hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Killed?”
He looked at the floor.
“One man died during an interrogation I ordered.”
Grace stopped breathing.
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Were you there?”
“No.”
“Did your order put him there?”
“Yes.”
Clean.
Horrible.
True.
“Name?”
“Daniel Vitale.”
Grace closed her eyes.
Dominic continued before she could ask.
“Twenty-seven.”
“Was he involved in Isabelle’s murder?”
“No.”
There.
The cost of a false story.
Grace stepped away from him.
Not dramatically.
One step.
Dominic felt it.
He did not follow.
Good.
Inside the interview room, Morales asked Cesare about the serpent ring.
He answered.
“I gave it to Julian after the shooting.”
“Why?”
“To get him through the north service gate. Old guards recognized family signet.”
“So Sophie saw that.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get it back?”
Cesare looked almost amused.
“Mrs. Donnelly.”
Grace went still.
Dominic looked toward the hall.
The house manager had said nothing about returning the ring.
Another withheld truth.
Morales continued.
“When?”
“Months later.”
“Why?”
“Julian left it in the gatehouse.”
“Then Mrs. Donnelly gave it to you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Cesare’s smile returned.
“Ask her.”
The interview stopped when his lawyer arrived.
Outside, Dominic stood in the foyer while police walked Cesare toward the door.
His uncle paused.
“You think handing me to police makes you different?”
Dominic looked at him.
“No.”
Cesare seemed surprised.
Dominic continued.
“What I do next might.”
Cesare left.
Grace remained near the stairs.
Dominic looked at her.
“I need to tell Morales about Daniel Vitale.”
“Yes.”
“I will.”
“Yes.”
She did not praise him.
Good.
Then Mrs. Donnelly appeared at the landing.
She held the old serpent ring receipt from evidence collection.
Her face looked tired.
Grace said:
“You gave it back to Cesare.”
Mrs. Donnelly closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he threatened Julian’s daughter.”
Dominic looked at her.
Again.
The same method.
Children.
Illness.
Family.
Control.
Mrs. Donnelly continued.
“And because he threatened to expose something about me.”
Grace felt the next betrayal coming.
“What?”
The older woman looked directly at her.
“I did not hire you by accident, Grace.”
Silence.
“I recognized your surname the day your application arrived.”
Grace’s stomach dropped.
“Peter Bennett.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you hire me?”
Mrs. Donnelly’s eyes filled.
“Because I hoped your father had left you evidence.”
Grace stared.
Two months of believing she had simply gotten a job.
May you like
Another person had made her life into part of a plan.
And suddenly the mansion felt no safer to Grace than it had to Isabelle.
