Chương 6
“I did not trust you to stop the wedding.”
Alessandro’s hand closed around the edge of the table.
Marco did not move.
“Say that again.”
“I did not trust you to stop the wedding.”
A year earlier, another man might have lost his job for saying less. Ten years earlier, another man might have left the room with a broken mouth.
Alessandro looked at Marco’s cut knuckle.
“You were right,” he said.
Marco breathed out through his nose.
“That does not make what I did right.”
“No.”
They sat without speaking.
On the counter, the kitchen clock showed eleven forty-seven. The second hand made a small clicking sound. Someone had left a bowl of sliced lemons beside the sink, each wedge drying at the edges.
“What happened to Rosa Alvarez?” Alessandro asked.
Marco folded his hands.
“She was dismissed from the Romano estate in 2014 after being accused of stealing a diamond bracelet. No charges were filed. She signed a confidentiality agreement and received nine months’ wages.”
“Where is she now?”
“Yonkers, according to a voter registration record. She has not answered our calls.”
“Who bruised her face?”
“We do not know.”
“Was it Isabella?”
“The footage does not show that.”
“Was it Vittorio?”
“We do not know.”
“Then Lucia lied when she said Isabella had other victims.”
“She believes coercion counts.”
Alessandro looked at him.
“It does.”
“Yes.”
“Find Rosa without frightening her.”
“We have tried.”
“Try differently.”
Marco rose.
At the doorway, he stopped.
“There is something else. The foundation’s external grants portal logged a submission from a private address three weeks ago. It did not appear internally because it was saved as a draft under Mrs. Moretti’s credentials.”
“Can a draft release money?”
“No. But it contains supporting documents, including an appraisal and two letters of recommendation.”
“From whom?”
“One from a state preservation official. One from you.”
Alessandro stared at him.
“I wrote no letter.”
“I know.”
The next morning, Sophia’s staffing agency suspended her.
The email arrived at seven twelve while she was sitting on the edge of the west guest-room bed, holding Emma’s purple hair band between her teeth as she tried to make two even ponytails. The message thanked her for her years of reliable service, referred to “the widely circulated incident,” and explained that she would remain off all client assignments pending an internal review.
Her health coverage would continue through the end of the month.
Sophia read the email twice.
Then she put the phone facedown.
Emma twisted around. “Too tight.”
“Sorry.”
Sophia loosened the hair band.
The guest room was larger than their entire apartment. Cream curtains framed windows overlooking a lawn wet with sprinklers. Someone had placed fresh towels on a bench and a silver tray of fruit beside the bed. Sophia had slept badly beneath sheets that probably cost more than her monthly rent.
Emma held Mr. Bun by one ear.
“Do we live here now?”
“No.”
“Where do we live?”
“At home.”
“Why aren’t we there?”
“Because people are being nosy.”
Emma nodded as if this matched her existing understanding of adults.
“Is Mister sad here?”
“Yes.”
“Does he live here?”
“Yes.”
“That’s bad.”
Sophia almost smiled. “Why?”
“Because the flowers smell too much.”
They did. Wedding arrangements filled the hallway outside, sweet and heavy in the morning heat.
Sophia checked the agency email again.
She had worked for Bell & Finch Domestic Services for six years. The company placed household coordinators, servers, cooks, and temporary staff with wealthy families throughout Westchester and Fairfield County. The Moretti account provided nearly half her annual hours. She had no contract guaranteeing shifts, no union, and no savings beyond seventeen hundred dollars in an account she tried not to touch.
She had refused Isabella’s demand to remain silent because silence had felt impossible after Emma heard the threat.
Now the practical cost had arrived before breakfast.
There was a knock.
Sophia opened the door to find Alessandro holding two paper cups.
He wore dark trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled. Without the wedding jacket, he looked less formal but not less imposing. His eyes were red from lack of sleep.
“I brought coffee,” he said.
“I don’t drink it.”
He looked at the cup in his left hand. “Lucia said you did.”
“Lucia sees me carrying coffee. It’s usually hers.”
Emma appeared beside Sophia.
“I like milk.”
Alessandro raised the second cup. “This is milk.”
Sophia looked at him.
He shrugged slightly. “I asked.”
Emma accepted it with both hands.
Sophia stepped into the hallway and pulled the door almost closed behind her.
“My agency suspended me.”
His face tightened. “When?”
“Seven twelve.”
“I’ll call them.”
“No.”
“They cannot punish you for reporting abuse.”
“They can call it a client-relations review and stop scheduling me.”
“I can replace the income.”
“No.”
“Sophia.”
“You don’t get to solve every problem by moving money.”
“It is the fastest way to keep you from losing your apartment.”
“And then what? I become one more woman your family pays while deciding what story she’s allowed to tell?”
“That is not what I said.”
“It is what happened to Rosa.”
He glanced toward the closed bedroom door.
“We don’t know what happened to Rosa.”
“We know she signed a paper and disappeared.”
“She did not disappear. Marco found an address.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Alessandro rubbed a hand across his mouth. Light stubble darkened his jaw. The tattoos at his neck shifted above his collar.
“I have independent counsel coming at ten,” he said.
“For me?”
“For you, if you agree. Her name is Maya Greene. She represents employees in retaliation and coercion cases. She has never worked for my family.”
“Who chose her?”
“Daniel gave me three names. I asked a legal aid director which one she would least enjoy facing.”
Despite herself, Sophia smiled.
It vanished quickly.
“Who pays?”
“A trust administered by the county bar association.”
“Created when?”
“This morning.”
“With your money.”
May you like
“Yes.”
“You really did make independence sound expensive.”
