Chương 13
“Why?”
“Because I keep saying people should choose, then arranging choices that protect me.”
“That sounds rehearsed.”
“It is not.”
“It sounds like something Lucia said.”
“It probably is.”
Sophia watched him read.
“Rosa may take the money,” she said.
“That is her decision.”
“She thinks refusing makes trouble for her son again.”
“Her son is an adult.”
“Fear doesn’t check birthdays.”
He looked up.
“No.”
“Do you want Isabella prosecuted?”
“I want the truth documented.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
He set the agreement on the table.
“I don’t know.”
Sophia nodded slowly.
“That’s the first honest thing powerful people say too late.”
He leaned back in the folding chair. It creaked beneath his weight.
“I loved her.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to say that kindly.”
“I’m not.”
He almost smiled.
Sophia looked toward the bedroom door.
“Emma asks whether you miss her.”
“Isabella?”
“Yes.”
“What do you tell her?”
“That adults can miss people who did bad things.”
“What does she say?”
“She says that is confusing.”
“She is right.”
They listened to the neighbor’s six piano notes begin again.
Alessandro folded the settlement along its center line.
“Marco found Elena Torres,” he said.
Sophia straightened.
“Where?”
“New Jersey. She works for a medical billing company.”
“Will she talk?”
“Not to us.”
“To Maya?”
“Maybe.”
“Does she know about the wedding?”
“Everyone knows about the wedding.”
Sophia rubbed her hands together.
“What did Isabella do to her?”
“We do not know.”
“But Lucia said there were victims.”
“My mother has become more careful with that word.”
“She should have been careful before dropping it in front of a hundred guests.”
“Yes.”
Sophia looked surprised by his agreement.
He continued.
“Lucia had complaints, resignations, and fragments. Marco had the footage. They believed public exposure was the only way to prevent suppression.”
“Were they wrong?”
“They were wrong about what it would do to Emma.”
Sophia’s eyes hardened.
“Yes.”
“They were not wrong about me.”
“No.”
He nodded.
The neighbor missed the fourth piano note and started over.
“I’m resigning as chief executive,” he said.
Sophia stared at him.
“Temporarily?”
“The board will call it a leave during the investigation.”
“Why?”
“Because the company cannot investigate a culture built around my preferences while I remain in charge.”
“Did the board force you?”
“No.”
“Then don’t make it sound noble.”
He felt irritation rise, quick and familiar.
“I am losing control of a company I built.”
“You inherited most of it.”
The irritation sharpened.
“I doubled it.”
“And now you want credit for stepping away from something you still own.”
He stood.
The small apartment made the movement feel aggressive. Sophia did not move.
Alessandro looked toward the bedroom.
He lowered his voice.
“You think nothing I do matters because I have money.”
“I think money softens consequences before they reach you.”
“My wedding ended in front of everyone I know.”
“And tomorrow you still have a house, a company, lawyers, and groceries you bought without checking the price.”
He glanced at the bags on the counter.
She had noticed.
“I checked the milk.”
“You bought organic.”
“Emma liked the cow on the carton.”
Sophia covered her face with one hand.
A laugh escaped through her fingers.
The tension broke badly, which was still a kind of breaking.
Alessandro sat again.
“I don’t know how to do this correctly,” he said.
“No one does.”
“You seem certain when I’m wrong.”
“That part is easier.”
Elena Torres agreed to meet Maya and Sophia the following Monday.
She was thirty-one and wore a red medical-office polo with her name embroidered above the pocket. They met in a public library study room during her lunch break. Elena placed her phone facedown on the table and did not remove her sunglasses until Maya closed the door.
“I have forty minutes,” she said.
Maya explained the confidentiality protections, the limits of privilege, and the possibility that any statement could eventually become public. Elena interrupted halfway through.
“I’m not suing.”
“We are not asking you to.”
“I’m not going on television.”
“No one asked.”
“They will.”
Sophia said, “I won’t.”
Elena looked at her.
“You’re the mother.”
“Yes.”
“Your daughter was brave.”
“She was scared.”
“Same thing sometimes.”
Elena folded the sunglasses and placed them on the table.
“I worked at the Romano estate for eight months. My mother cleaned there before me. I found invoices in Mr. Romano’s office because a pipe burst and he told me to move boxes away from the water. The invoices showed the roof company had billed for repairs that were never done.”
“Why did that matter to you?” Maya asked.
“My uncle worked for the roof company. He said the contract was canceled.”
“What happened to the borrowed funds?”
“I don’t know. A week later, Isabella asked whether I had photographed the invoices.”
“Had you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought my uncle’s company was committing fraud.”
“Did you share the photographs?”
“With my uncle.”
“What did he do?”
“He called his boss. His boss called Mr. Romano.”
Elena rubbed her thumb over a scratch in the table.
“Isabella told me my mother’s immigration attorney was paid by the family. She said paperwork could get delayed. My mother had already waited eleven years. I deleted the photographs.”
“Did she touch you?” Sophia asked.
“No.”
“Threaten police?”
“No. She smiled. That was worse.”
“What happened after you deleted them?”
“We left.”
“Did your mother receive legal status?”
“Yes, two years later.”
“Do you still have the photographs?”
Elena looked at Maya.
“I said I deleted them.”
Maya waited.
Elena opened her bag and removed a small blue flash drive.
“My uncle kept copies.”
The invoices did not prove Isabella had committed financial fraud.
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They did prove the Romano estate had obtained a $600,000 restoration loan using documentation for work that was never completed. Most of the funds had moved through two consulting firms before reaching accounts connected to Carlo Romano’s failed restaurant and treatment expenses.
Vittorio had signed the loan documents.
