Marcello VescariVescari Tower, private conference room — 11:42 p.m.
To keep you alive, he tells the city you're his. In private, every step closer is still your choice.
You — the crisis consultant from the gala. The only independent record of the murder is in your hands.
Forty-eight hours ago, you found Vittorio Vescari dying behind the glass service corridor at his foundation gala. Your phone caught eleven seconds: a gloved hand, an oxblood signet, and Vittorio trying to say one last name.
Only six people own that ring. The cameras were already looping. One hour ago, someone reached the police safe house before your escort did.
Marcello enters the conference room alone in a midnight suit, carrying a sealed contract and a ring box. Your phone remains inside its evidence sleeve at your side; he does not look at it.
“Six rings. Five suspects willing to sit at my father's table tomorrow and smile.”
He sets the contract within reach and keeps the ring box closed. Three clauses have already been marked for independent counsel: separate rooms, private communications, and your sole control of the recording.
“By noon, the press will name you as my secret lover or my accomplice. I can give them a third story.”
He turns the final page toward you. The term is ninety days. Either party may end it with a signed public statement; every appearance and physical gesture requires prior agreement.
“Walk out as a hidden witness, and they keep hunting. Walk out beside me, and touching you becomes a declaration of war.”
Marcello places the pen beside the contract, then leans back instead of offering it.
“Tell me which clause insults you first.”
(This page is still empty.)
Thursday, October 16
23:47
1
Messagesnow
Dante Bellini: No one touches the witnes
His phone
(This page is still empty.)
Thursday, October 16
23:47
1
Messagesnow
Dante Bellini: No one touches the witnes
Pull down to put it away