Chapter 3
Bianca denied using Ethan.
That was expected.
What surprised me was how offended she sounded.
“You believe a woman who hid under the floor for three years?”
I stared at her across the council room.
“She didn’t hide.”
Bianca folded her arms.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you didn’t ask how she survived.”
Silence.
That landed.
Anyone innocent would have asked.
Water.
Food.
Air.
How.
Bianca asked none of it.
Because she already knew.
I leaned forward.
“Where does the passage go?”
She said nothing.
“Bianca.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Old servants’ corridors.”
“How far?”
“To the wine cellar. Storage rooms. The chapel foundation.”
There it was.
Specific.
Too specific for someone pretending ignorance.
“Who kept her alive?”
Her expression changed.
Not much.
Enough.
I stood.
“You did.”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Silence.
I waited.
Bianca hated silence.
Always had.
Eventually she said:
“She wasn’t supposed to remain there.”
Interesting.
I felt something cold settle inside me.
“Supposed to?”
She closed her eyes.
Too late.
“Explain.”
Bianca exhaled.
“The plan was temporary.”
There.
The first truth.
“Whose plan?”
She looked toward the closed door.
Not at me.
At the door.
Someone outside this room.
Someone she still feared.
That mattered.
“Bianca.”
She finally whispered:
“Uncle Matteo.”
My father’s younger brother.
Retired.
Respected.
Dead eighteen months ago.
I stared at her.
“Matteo ordered Evelyn taken?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“He ordered me to stop the wedding.”
I almost laughed.
“With a hidden tunnel?”
“He said the marriage would destroy the balance.”
There was that word.
Balance.
The family word people used when they wanted my power divided.
“What balance?”
Bianca’s eyes hardened.
“Evelyn knew too much.”
I leaned closer.
“About Matteo?”
“No.”
May you like
She looked at me.
“About you.”
