Chapter 4 - The Shadow in the Garden
The rain had stopped by evening, leaving the massive Moretti estate glistening under the amber glow of vintage iron streetlamps. Inside the expansive second-floor library, the scent of old leather and polished mahogany hung heavy in the air.
Ruby sat at a low velvet-upholstered writing desk, carefully organizing a stack of leather-bound translation guides and sign language flashcards. Across from her, sitting in a high-backed armchair, Sophia was intently flipping through an art history book filled with vivid Renaissance paintings.
For the past week, life in the Moretti mansion had undergone a seismic, unspoken shift. The heavy, suffocating silence that had choked the halls for seven years had begun to fracture. Staff members whispered in the corridors about the new maid who spent hours upstairs, and more importantly, they whispered about the rare occasions they had caught Mr. Moretti standing outside Sophia’s door, listening quietly to the muffled sound of two women communicating in silence.
Ruby glanced up from her flashcards and looked at Sophia.
"You know," Ruby signed slowly, her fingers moving with graceful precision, "your brother isn't as terrifying as he pretends to be."
Sophia paused, her fingers resting on a page depicting a Caravaggio painting of dramatic light and shadow. A small, dry smile touched the corners of her mouth. She signed back, her movements quick and expressive: 'He is a dragon who thinks he owns the mountain.'
Ruby chuckled softly aloud. "A dragon? That’s remarkably accurate. But every dragon has a soft spot."
Before Sophia could reply, the heavy library doors swung open without a sound.
Santiago walked in. He had removed his suit jacket, his white sleeves still rolled up, revealing the powerful lines of his forearms. He carried two porcelain mugs of hot spiced tea on a small silver tray.
Sophia immediately closed her art book and straightened up in her chair, her face returning to its familiar, guarded mask—though the light in her eyes remained.
Santiago placed the tray on the low table between them. He didn't look at Ruby at first; his dark gaze was fixed entirely on his sister.
"I brought tea," Santiago said, his deep voice rich in the quiet room. He slid one of the mugs toward Sophia. "Real tea, not the herbal garbage the nutritionists insisted on."
Sophia looked at the mug, then looked up at her brother. Slowly, she reached out, her fingers wrapping around the warm porcelain. She lifted it and took a small sip, her eyes softening just a fraction.
Santiago watched her with an intensity that bordered on reverence. Then, he turned his gaze to Ruby.
"And for you," he said, pushing the second mug across the table.
Ruby looked at the steaming cup, surprised. "Thank you, Mr. Moretti."
"You can drop the 'Mr. Moretti' when we're off the clock, Sarah," he replied casually, leaning back against the edge of the heavy mahogany bookshelf and crossing his arms.
Ruby froze. Using her real name in casual conversation sent a sudden jolt of electricity down her spine. She looked quickly toward Sophia, but Sophia was quietly sipping her tea, pretending not to notice the sudden emotional shift in the room.
"I prefer Ruby," she said quietly, keeping her eyes on her teacup. "Ruby is the one who works here."
"Ruby is a disguise," Santiago countered smoothly, his dark eyes locking onto hers with unblinking focus. "And I prefer dealing with reality. The real woman who stood up to me in my own study without blinking."
Before Ruby could think of a suitable response, the sharp, shrill ring of a secure satellite phone broke the quiet of the library.
Santiago’s expression changed in a microsecond. The relaxed, almost domestic warmth vanished entirely, replaced by the lethal, frozen focus of a man who commanded an empire built on blood and iron.
He pulled a heavy, encrypted black smartphone from his trousers pocket and pressed answer.
"Speak," Santiago ordered.
Tomas’s voice came through the speaker, tight and urgent. "Boss. We have a problem at the perimeter gate. A black sedan dropped off a package, and our automated plate scanners flagged something worse."
Santiago’s eyes narrowed. "What kind of problem?"
"It’s not just a package, Boss. It’s a message. One of our patrol guards found a man tied up near the north service entrance. A man carrying a dossier with your name on it... and Sarah Miller’s."
Ruby’s breath caught in her throat. The teacup in her hand rattled violently against the saucer, spilling a few drops of dark amber liquid onto the polished wood.
Santiago didn't look away from her. His jaw clenched so hard muscles flexed along his cheekbones.
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"Who sent it?" Santiago asked, his voice dropping into a register so cold it felt like winter had entered the room.
"Arthur Vance’s former head of security," Tomas reported grimly. "And according to the papers in the dossier, they didn't just track Sarah to Chicago. They know she’s inside this house."
