Chapter 4 - Article Seven
Giulietta yanked the library door open.
Warren stood in the hall with two Marconi guns aimed at his ribs.
“You ordered Article Seven.”
“I ordered a copy.”
“Why?”
Warren glanced at Matteo.
“Because your future husband told me it mattered.”
Preston was brought into the hallway with his hands zip-tied in front of him.
“Don’t drag me into his panic,” he said.
Warren’s face tightened.
“You told me the clause protected Hale interests if Giulietta became unstable.”
Preston smiled without humor.
“That’s not what I said.”
Giulietta stepped between them.
“Enough. Who told you Article Seven existed?”
Preston stared at Matteo.
Matteo stared back.
A hotel fire door slammed somewhere down the hall.
Enzo’s hand moved toward his weapon.
Nobody came through.
Giulietta pointed at Warren.
“You first.”
Warren wiped sweat from his upper lip.
“Preston brought me a summary six months ago. Said your family had a succession clause that could stabilize both sides if the marriage went bad.”
“Where did he get the summary?”
“I assumed from you.”
Giulietta looked at Preston.
His cuffed hands flexed.
“You proposed to me eight months ago,” she said. “You had Article Seven six months ago.”
Preston said nothing.
“That means somebody was planning my incapacity before the wedding invitations were printed.”
Matteo’s face had gone still.
Giulietta hated stillness. Stillness meant calculation.
Enzo received a call and stepped away.
Giulietta kept pressing.
“What was supposed to happen after the ceremony?”
Preston looked at the floor.
Warren answered instead.
“A doctor would speak to you.”
Giulietta turned.
“What doctor?”
Warren’s eyes flicked toward Preston.
“I don’t know.”
“You built a legal plan around declaring me incapable and don’t know the doctor?”
“I was told it was temporary.”
Matteo laughed once.
“You were told whatever made you sign.”
Warren lunged toward him.
The guards pinned him against the wall.
Preston watched his father struggle with open contempt.
That bothered Giulietta more than the fight.
Father and son were not standing on the same ground.
Enzo returned.
“We checked the certified-copy request.”
He held up his phone.
“The lawyer says Warren’s firm requested it, but the initial inquiry came from a private medical consultant.”
Giulietta felt the next piece click into place.
“Name?”
Enzo looked at the guest list on his screen.
“Dr. Adrian Keller.”
Matteo frowned.
“I know that name.”
“So do I,” Warren said.
Preston shut his eyes for half a second.
Giulietta saw it.
“Where is he?”
Enzo spoke into his earpiece.
“Find Keller. Quietly.”
One minute later, a voice answered.
“Found him. Ballroom mezzanine.”
“Bring him.”
The doctor arrived carrying a leather medical bag.
Not a briefcase.
Not a wedding gift.
A medical bag.
Giulietta placed it on a console table and opened it herself.
Blood-pressure cuff. Stethoscope. Sealed syringes. Two amber vials without labels.
Keller went pale.
“I can explain.”
Giulietta lifted one vial.
“Do it before I decide this is poison.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then what is it?”
Keller’s eyes went to Matteo.
Then Preston.
Then the golf club still lying visible inside the suite.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen yet,” he whispered.
Giulietta put the vial down carefully.
“What wasn’t?”
Keller’s mouth opened.
No sound came.
Giulietta leaned closer.
“The injection?”
His eyes snapped to hers.
May you like
And that told her she was right.
