Dominic lowered his voice. “What did the man do?” Lily lifted her little hand. “He had a silver box.” “How big?” She spread her fingers apart. “This big.” My stomach tightened. “What did he do with it?” “He opened it.” “And then?” “He put white stuff on his finger.” Dominic's face became completely unreadable. “Where did he put it, Lily?” She pointed at the smashed slice of cake. “In Ethan’s frosting.” A chair scraped behind us. I turned. Ethan had gone pale. Dominic stood so quickly that I stumbled backward. “Dr. Harris!” His voice cracked across the ballroom. A gray-haired man moved through the guests. Dominic pointed at the cake. “Test it.” Dr. Harris didn't ask questions. He crouched, opened a compact medical case he apparently carried everywhere, and used a sterile tool to scrape frosting from the slice Lily had knocked onto the floor. I looked between Dominic and Ethan. Then I understood. Ethan had a severe allergy. Everyone working at the estate knew. Cashews.
Even tiny exposure could trigger anaphylaxis. For years the kitchen had followed rules that seemed almost absurd. Separate utensils. Separate storage. Ingredient inspections. Vendor checks. No outside desserts. No unauthorized kitchen access. Dominic had built a wall of precautions around his son. Someone had walked through all of them. The next three minutes felt endless. Lily grabbed my hand. “Mommy?” I squeezed her fingers. “You did the right thing.” Dr. Harris looked at the test. His face changed. Dominic saw it. “What?” “Positive.” Nobody spoke. The doctor tested it again. His mouth tightened. “Cashew protein. Concentrated amount.” Dominic turned toward Ethan. “If he had eaten it?” Dr. Harris hesitated. “That amount could have triggered a severe reaction almost immediately.” “How long?” “Dominic—” “How long?” “Seconds before symptoms. We would have treated him immediately, but with his history…” The doctor didn't finish. He didn't need to. Dominic stared at his son. Ethan's eyes filled with tears. Then Dominic crossed the distance between them and pulled the boy against his chest.
For a few seconds, the feared Dominic Moretti was gone. There was only a father realizing how close he had come to losing his child. I looked at Lily. She didn't understand death. She didn't understand organized crime, security systems, betrayal, or why the adults around her looked terrified. She had simply seen someone doing something strange to her friend's cake. So she stopped him from eating it. Dominic released Ethan. When he turned around again, something in his face had changed. The fear had disappeared. What replaced it frightened me much more. “Marco.” A tall security chief stepped forward. “Lock the estate.” The ballroom stirred. “Sir?” “Nobody enters. Nobody leaves.” Dominic looked toward the service corridor. “Collect every phone from every member of staff who had kitchen access.” One of the guests protested. “Dominic, what exactly is happening?” Dominic smiled. It was the coldest smile I had ever seen. “A kitchen problem.” The guest swallowed. Dominic addressed the room. “My apologies. The party is over.”