Dominic doesn’t reply and instead follows me down the hall into my study.
“Close the door and lock it please.” I walk behind my father’s desk that dominates the space like a throne. I place my hands on the black oak surface and breathe in the lingering scent of Dad’s cigars. My eyes scan the room as my brain is whirling trying to sort chaos into order.
I take in the deep walnut walls and the heavy velvet curtains hanging over the tall windows. To my right is a stone fireplace with a gold-veined black marble mantle. Above it is a family portrait of Mom, Dad, Nonna, Gigi, and me. It was taken a few months before he died.
Dominic sinks into the comfy chair in front of the desk and stays silent. He stares at me with such intensity that it makes my stomach flutter.
Bending down, I open the lion-headed drawers and pull out a pad of sticky notes along with a sharpie.
“What are you doing, Cipi?” Dominic finally speaks.
Walking around the desk, I head over to the corkboard on the wall next to the filing cabinet.
“The chess set is The Capuano Family.” I write our name on a sticky note and slap it onto the board. “It has to be. My father had that chess set specially ordered from Germany. It was crafted by hand, there are no other pieces like it.”
I grab more sticky notes.
“The first piece that was sent to me, The King, represents my dad. The king is the most important piece in the game, like he was.” I blink back tears. “When my father died the whole board fell into disarray.” I scribble his name on the note and place it on the board.
Dominic doesn’t respond. He just listens.
“The second piece was the rook. That’s Bruno. He’s a protector and he’s loyal. He watches from the shadows and puts his life on the line for the family.” I write his name and place it next to Dad’s. “Each piece came with a black feather which means death. It’s a warning and these boxes foreshadow who is the next to die. They are trying to take us out one by one and checkmate us until no one is left.”
“Wait a minute.” Dominic holds up his hand. “I can understand Bruno being the rook and him getting shot. But if your dad is the king, then why did you get shot? Shouldn’t they have sent a queen instead?”
I stare at my father’s desk, my gaze narrowing on the clawed feet. “Maybe because I’m the heir to the king? Maybe Dad’s death wasn’t natural.”
“Hang on, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Didn’t you tell me the authorities ruled he died of natural causes?” Dominic gets to his feet.
“Yeah they did, but that never sat well with me. It was too clean-cut.” I throw the remaining stack of sticky notes onto the desk.
Dominic walks over and stands next to me. He stares at the sticky notes and writing. “You keep mentioning a bishop. The bishop watches from within. Who is the bishop? Isn’t a bishop like an advisor or something?”
A coldness washes over me as I catch onto what he’s saying. “The bishop has to be Salvatore. He’s the advisor to our family. They’re going to try to kill him next.” I pat my pockets looking for my phone.
“But we didn’t get a bishop piece delivered.”
“No, but I got a feather with the word bishop attached to it.” I see my phone on the desk and lunge for it.
“Where is he?” Dominic asks.
“I don’t know.” I grab my phone and dial Salvatore’s number with shaking hands.
It rings and rings, then goes to voicemail.
Not a good sign.
“Sal, call me back as soon as you get this.” I try to mask the panic in my voice as I speak.
I hang up and dial Matteo. He answers on the first ring.
“What’s up Cipi?”
“Where’s Salvatore?” I blurt out.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him today. What’s wrong, Cipi?”
“Nothing. I need to know where he is.”
