Chương 10
“I’ll go,” Isabella said.
All three adults answered at once.
“No.”
She looked from Lorenzo to Claire. “It’s my house.”
“It is a potential crime scene,” Claire said.
“It is also full of staff who could find the box tomorrow.”
“The staff were sent home,” Lorenzo said.
“And Dominic has already planted a listening device there.”
Lorenzo’s phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
A message showed a photograph of the estate kitchen. On the center island sat the wooden recipe box.
Beside it lay a printed copy of Isabella’s ultrasound photograph.
Her hand flew to her dress pocket.
The original was still there.
Dominic had obtained another copy.
“How?” she whispered.
Lorenzo enlarged the image. A caption appeared below it.
Congratulations.
Nobody spoke.
Isabella took the phone. The photograph on the island showed her name, the clinic date, and the blurred white shape she had stared at that morning.
Claire asked, “Who knew about the appointment?”
“No one. I booked it under my maiden name.”
“Payment?”
“My card.”
“Insurance?”
“No.”
“Email confirmation?”
Isabella remembered the clinic receptionist asking whether she wanted the images uploaded to a patient portal. She had agreed. The confirmation had gone to an old email address connected to the foundation’s domain.
“The email account,” she said. “It was created when I joined the foundation board.”
Lorenzo’s face turned cold. “Dominic controls the foundation’s IT contractor.”
Elena returned to the kitchen. When she saw the phone, she placed a hand over her mouth.
The next message arrived.
Come home alone, or the Bellini records burn.
Claire reached for the phone. “Do not answer.”
Isabella’s nausea returned.
Lorenzo took the device from her. “He wants me to react.”
“He wants me,” she said.
“He wants both of us.”
“What happens if we do nothing?”
“He destroys the documents.”
“And if we call the FBI?”
“He may destroy them before agents enter. He may also have someone inside.”
Claire said, “We contact the prosecutor handling Lorenzo’s approach. We tell her there is possible evidence and a threat. We do not improvise.”
Lorenzo looked at Isabella. “Agreed.”
She stared at him. “You don’t want to go?”
“I want to kill him.”
The plainness of the statement chilled the room.
“I also know that is what he expects.”
Claire opened a secure phone from her briefcase and dialed.
While she spoke in the living room, Isabella stood at the kitchen window. Her reflection floated over the dark trees: pale face, loose hair, sweater buttoned incorrectly at the bottom. She fixed the button, then felt foolish for caring.
Lorenzo came to stand several feet behind her.
“How far along?” he asked.
“Six weeks.”
He breathed in.
She watched his reflection rather than turning.
“Were you going to tell me?”
“I bought a small silver rattle.”
“Where is it?”
“In the travel bag.”
“I didn’t see it.”
“It’s wrapped in one of my shoes.”
His eyes closed briefly.
“I planned to give it to you at dinner,” she said. “Then Nadia called. Then I found the ledger.”
“And the ring?”
“In my pocket.”
“Do you want me to ask you to put it back on?”
“No.”
“Good.”
The answer surprised her enough that she faced him.
Lorenzo looked older than he had in the foyer. Not weaker. The difference was not flattering. It was merely human.
“I won’t use the child to ask for forgiveness,” he said.
“You’re already calling it the child.”
“What should I call it?”
“I don’t know.”
He looked toward her stomach, then away. “Are you well?”
“The doctor said everything looked normal.”
“Were you alone?”
“Yes.”
His jaw moved once. “You shouldn’t have been.”
“You don’t get to be hurt about that.”
“I know.”
She leaned against the counter. “Are you going to prison?”
“Yes.”
“Even if there’s no agreement?”
“Yes.”
“Why now?”
“Because Dominic knows about the cooperation. Because Carlo can testify. Because you have the ledger photographs. Because a child cannot be protected by teaching everyone to fear its father.”
She searched his face. “Which reason matters most?”
“They are not separable.”
“Try.”
Lorenzo’s gaze settled on the wedding ring visible between her fingers.
“Matteo asked me to call you,” he said. “I chose the organization. There is no way to undo that choice. There is only the next one.”
Claire returned. “The prosecutor is sending a team. They want us to remain here.”
“How long?” Lorenzo asked.
“Until they establish surveillance and determine whether the estate is occupied.”
“The records could burn.”
Claire’s patience thinned. “They are paper. Isabella is pregnant. Elena’s son is hospitalized. You are under federal investigation. We are not organizing a rescue mission for documents.”
“The documents may prove Matteo’s murder,” Isabella said.
“They may. They may also be copies of records the government already has.”
“Then why does Dominic care?”
“Because he doesn’t know what they contain.”
Isabella looked at the photograph on Lorenzo’s phone. Dominic had entered her kitchen, opened her medical account, and arranged the recipe box beneath a threat. He expected fear to move her in a predictable direction.
She had spent four years watching men around Lorenzo perform courage for one another. They slapped shoulders, raised glasses, made promises about loyalty. Their bravery usually depended on women cleaning the consequences.
“What does the prosecutor want from me?” Isabella asked.
Claire answered carefully. “A complete statement. Access to the photographs. Your phone. Later, sworn testimony.”
“And from Lorenzo?”
“Immediate surrender and full disclosure.”
Lorenzo nodded. “Arrange it.”
Claire stared at him. “You understand there is no guarantee of a negotiated plea.”
“Yes.”
“You could be held without bail.”
“Yes.”
“You may not see Isabella again before the birth.”
His eyes moved toward her stomach. “Yes.”
“Do not agree because you are emotional.”
“I am not agreeing because I am emotional.”
Isabella said, “He’s lying.”
Lorenzo looked at her.
“You are emotional,” she continued. “You just hide it better than other people.”
May you like
A faint, exhausted smile touched his mouth and disappeared. “Perhaps.”
The federal team arrived forty-five minutes later in three unmarked vehicles. Special Agent Maya Chen entered first, accompanied by two agents and Assistant United States Attorney Rebecca Shaw. Shaw was a compact woman with dark curls, sensible boots, and the direct expression of someone accustomed to lies arriving in expensive suits.
