Chapter 2 - The Interrogation
I stared at Logan, entirely unable to process the horrifying words he had just spoken.
My grandmother had been a sweet, gentle woman who baked cookies and knitted sweaters for the neighborhood kids.
She passed away five years ago in a quiet, peaceful hospice facility.
"There has to be a terrible mistake," I said, my entire body shaking.
"My grandmother was a retired school teacher, not a killer."
Logan ignored my protests and grabbed my arm, pulling me roughly away from Sophia’s bed.
"Don't touch me!" I yelled, struggling against his iron grip.
Sophia whimpered in her sleep, tossing restlessly under the thick, expensive blankets.
Logan immediately released my arm, his eyes softening for a fraction of a second as he looked down at his sick daughter.
"Downstairs, right now," he whispered harshly, pointing toward the dark hallway.
I walked out of the bedroom, my mind racing with a million terrifying thoughts.
Fifteen armed security guards were now actively patrolling the hallways, their heavy weapons drawn and ready.
Vincent, the elderly gray-haired house manager, stood at the bottom of the stairs with a grim, knowing expression.
Logan led me into his private study and locked the heavy oak doors behind us.
He walked over to his massive desk and opened a hidden biometric drawer.
He pulled out an old, silver audio recorder and placed it on the glass surface.
"Press play," Logan commanded.
I reached out with a trembling hand and pressed the small mechanical button.
A woman's voice filled the silent room, singing the exact Italian lullaby I had hummed to Sophia upstairs.
"That is my late wife, Isabella," Logan explained, his jaw tight with repressed anger.
"She recorded that tape the night she was killed."
"The song isn't a simple lullaby, Emma."
"It is a distress code used by the most dangerous mafia syndicate in Boston."
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My blood ran cold as I looked up at the billionaire CEO.
"If you are just a pediatric nurse, why do you know the assassination code of the Rossi family?"
