Chương 12
“Not always.”
“No.”
They continued walking.
“Did you know Matteo planned to marry me before he proposed?”
Carlo’s steps slowed.
“No.”
She showed him a photograph of the notebook page.
He read it beneath a streetlight.
His face hardened.
“He made a business plan.”
“Yes.”
“That bastard.”
Elena laughed once.
Carlo looked at her.
“You used my reports,” she said. “You don’t get to be the offended father yet.”
He handed back the phone.
“No.”
They reached a bench. Carlo sat and crushed the empty coffee cup between his hands.
“If we submit everything,” he said, “the company ends.”
“It may end anyway.”
“I could take the settlement. Retire. Keep the workers.”
“And say I misunderstood.”
“You would not have to marry him.”
“That is not enough.”
“I know.”
It was the first time he had said it.
Elena sat beside him.
Carlo stared at the bent cup.
“I want you to take the offer,” he said. “I want it so badly that I can make it sound reasonable.”
She waited.
“I also know what I am asking you to become.”
The lake moved against the stone wall below them.
“What will you do?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
She almost told him he had to know.
Instead they sat until the ferry reached the far shore.
Livia requested a private meeting at Villa Bellandi on Wednesday.
Her attorneys called it a final opportunity for resolution. Giulia wanted to refuse. Elena accepted.
“Why?” Mara asked.
“Because I need to hear whether Matteo knew about the notebook.”
“You already know.”
“I know what he wrote.”
“That seems adequate.”
Elena looked at the settlement draft. It promised continued employment for Rinaldi workers, payment of outstanding invoices, withdrawal of Elena’s suspension without admission of wrongdoing, and a confidential financial payment large enough to support her for years.
In return, Elena would surrender all recordings, copies, devices, and related materials. She would state publicly that no threat of physical harm had been made and that comments concerning her family referred solely to lawful business consequences.
The statement was technically precise.
That precision made it more dishonest.
“They’re offering to let me say the worst thing didn’t happen,” Elena said, “so nobody asks what did.”
Mara folded the document.
“Then why go?”
“Because Papa still wants it.”
Carlo did not deny this.
Villa Bellandi looked different without wedding cars along the drive.
The floral arches had been removed. Brown marks remained in the grass where equipment had stood. At the service entrance, workers carried crates of unopened wine into a van.
Elena wore a dark coat and flat shoes. Her wrist was unmarked now. Giulia walked beside her with a leather case. Carlo followed several steps behind.
They entered through the front doors.
No attendants opened them.
The music hall had been cleared of chairs, but the chandeliers remained lit. The walnut doors stood open. A faint line of candle wax marked the floor near the altar.
Livia waited beside the grand piano.
Matteo stood near the arched windows, looking toward the lake.
Two attorneys sat at a table with settlement papers arranged in front of them. Filippo remained near the wall, arms folded.
“This could have been done in an office,” Giulia said.
Livia looked around the hall.
“This is where the damage occurred.”
“No,” Elena replied. “It is where people noticed.”
Matteo turned.
His gaze moved over her face, her coat, her empty hands. He looked as though he had expected the wedding dress to remain part of her forever.
Livia gestured toward the table.
“The agreement protects all parties.”
Carlo read the first page though he had already seen it.
“Wages are guaranteed?” he asked.
“For twelve months,” one attorney said. “Subject to operational review.”
“And the current contracts?”
“Transferred to a supervised entity. Existing employees receive priority.”
Priority was not a promise. Carlo noticed. His mouth tightened.
Livia looked at Elena.
“You may issue the agreed statement in your own voice.”
“My own voice using your words.”
“The words are factual.”
“You threatened my family.”
“I informed you that your father’s misconduct would no longer be contained if you severed relations with us.”
“That is a threat.”
“It is a consequence.”
“Why was the door locked?”
“The door was not locked.”
Matteo looked down.
Elena saw it.
Livia followed her gaze.
“The latch engaged,” Livia said. “You were free to leave.”
“Matteo stopped me.”
“He panicked,” Livia replied. “He apologized.”
Matteo’s face reddened.
“Mother.”
“What? We are here to speak honestly.”
“No,” Elena said. “You are here to define honesty so narrowly that nothing fits inside it.”
One attorney cleared his throat.
“This discussion will be more productive if we focus on the written terms.”
Giulia opened her case.
“We are focused on them.”
She placed Matteo’s notebook on the table.
He stared at it.
Livia did not.
Elena watched her and understood.
“You knew I found it,” Elena said.
Livia’s silence answered.
Matteo stepped forward.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your desk.”
“You entered my private drawer.”
“It was in our apartment.”
“That does not make everything mine yours.”
The sentence surprised both of them.
Elena looked at the settlement papers.
“No,” she said. “Apparently marriage would have done that only in one direction.”
Matteo’s anger faded.
He pulled out a chair but did not sit.
“The list was strategic planning,” he said. “My mother asked for options to resolve the project exposure.”
“Marriage before audit completion.”
“I was already considering proposing.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
“Would you have proposed if my name were useless?”
He looked at her.
Pain crossed his face, followed by calculation, followed by pain again.
“I cannot answer a version of our life that did not happen.”
“That is convenient.”
“It is honest.”
Carlo placed both hands on the table.
“Did you plan to use my daughter’s credentials to cover the invoices?”
Matteo turned toward him.
“You used them first.”
Carlo went still.
May you like
Matteo immediately regretted the words, but they were true enough to remain.
Livia sat at the piano bench.
