Chương 4
“Bring Cesare Romano.”
Vivian stepped between them.
“No.”
The word was not commanding. It was frightened.
Alessandro’s gaze settled on her. “Move.”
“You are humiliating him in front of everyone.”
“He will survive the walk.”
“You don’t understand what this night is.”
Elena almost laughed again. Vivian had struck a housekeeper before twelve families, yet humiliation became real only when it crossed the ballroom wearing a dinner jacket.
Alessandro seemed to think the same thing, though his face showed none of it.
“I understand exactly what this night was meant to be,” he said. “Move.”
Vivian moved.
Cesare entered with an expression of controlled irritation. He glanced at his daughter, then at Vittorio, then at the rabbit in Emma’s arms.
His irritation disappeared.
“Where did that come from?”
Emma tucked Blue beneath her chin.
Elena stepped in front of the chair.
Cesare’s eyes lifted to her face. They paused on the reddened cheek, then moved to Vivian.
“What happened?”
“That is not the question,” Alessandro said.
Cesare ignored him. “Vivian?”
She looked down.
The father’s disappointment arrived before concern. Elena saw it and understood something about Vivian that did not excuse her but made her less mysterious.
Cesare faced Alessandro.
“There has been an unfortunate incident. We will apologize privately.”
“You recognize the mark.”
“I recognize many things.”
“Did Daniel Bennett contact you?”
The older man took his time removing one cuff link and fastening it again.
“I don’t know the name.”
“David Benson.”
Vittorio closed his eyes.
Cesare’s fingers stopped at the cuff.
Emma began humming to the rabbit. It was a tune Daniel used to sing while cooking badly, three notes repeated until Elena threatened to leave the room.
Cesare glanced toward the child, and for one brief moment his face showed fatigue rather than calculation.
Then it vanished.
“A man using that name sent documents to my office,” he said. “The documents were incomplete and appeared to be part of an extortion attempt.”
“What did you do?”
“I referred them to counsel.”
“Which counsel?”
“Federico.”
The dead man’s name remained in the room.
Alessandro’s silver watch caught the light when he folded his arms.
“Why Federico?”
“Because the papers included Moretti accounts.”
“Did you meet Daniel?”
“No.”
“Did Vivian?”
Cesare looked at his daughter.
Vivian’s mouth tightened.
“I met him once,” she said.
Elena heard the words but could not understand them as a sentence.
“You met my husband?”
Vivian looked at her, and the superiority she wore so naturally had gone. Without it, she seemed younger, though not kinder.
“He came to the Romano office,” Vivian said. “Four years ago.”
“Emma wasn’t born.”
“No.”
“What did he say?”
“He said someone was stealing from all twelve families and making the payments look like routine costs. He said the theft was funding something separate.”
“What?”
“He didn’t know.”
“That is not true,” Vittorio said.
Everyone turned toward him.
Vittorio wiped his upper lip.
“He suspected it was buying control of smaller companies through threats and false debt. He said the purpose was to create a new alliance that could survive without the old families.”
Cesare’s gaze hardened.
“You told me he was guessing.”
“He was.”
“You told me his copies were worthless.”
“They were incomplete.”
“You told me he would lose interest.”
Vittorio looked at Elena. “I hoped he would.”
Elena left Emma’s chair and crossed the room.
Marco shifted, prepared to stop her if she lunged. She did not. She stood before Vittorio and studied the folds beside his mouth, the sweat at his hairline, the frightened hands.
“Daniel never lost interest,” she said. “Not once he thought someone had cheated.”
Vittorio lowered his eyes.
“He contacted me three more times.”
“And you did what?”
“I asked him to stop.”
“Because he was wrong?”
“No.”
“Because he was in danger?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“I told him he had a daughter coming.”
Elena’s breath caught.
Daniel had come home one night during her pregnancy and stood in the kitchen without taking off his coat. She had been eating crackers over the sink because everything else made her sick. He had watched her for a long time, then placed both hands on her stomach and said, I’m done trying to fix other people’s broken machines.
She had thought he meant the extra shifts.
“What happened after Emma was born?” Alessandro asked.
Vittorio pressed the handkerchief flat against his knee.
“Daniel disappeared from my attention for almost two years. Then he called again. He had found newer records. The system was still operating.”
“Under whose authority?” Cesare asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You always know,” Cesare said.
“Not this time.”
Alessandro looked at Elena. “When did your husband die?”
“Eleven months ago.”
“How?”
“A traffic accident.”
The lie felt strange in her mouth because she had repeated it so often it had become part of the furniture of her life.
Daniel had been found beside his motorcycle on a service road near Sesto San Giovanni. The police said the road was wet and he had taken the curve too fast. No other vehicle appeared on the available traffic footage. His helmet strap had broken. The report called it accidental.
“He hated that motorcycle,” Elena said.
No one spoke.
“He bought it because we couldn’t afford another car. He drove slowly. People honked at him. He would come home angry that everyone in Milan wanted to die five minutes sooner.”
Vittorio’s shoulders sagged.
“You knew,” Elena said.
“I suspected.”
“You knew.”
“I did not arrange his death.”
“I didn’t ask that.”
Vittorio looked at her then, and whatever she saw convinced her more than a confession would have.
He had known Daniel was being watched. He had chosen not to know what came next.
Elena returned to Emma. Her daughter had slipped one finger beneath the rabbit’s folded ear and was rubbing the black stitches.
“Don’t pull them,” Elena said.
“Papa did it wrong.”
Elena crouched.
“What?”
May you like
Emma turned the rabbit toward her.
“Papa said the ear was a pocket. But it doesn’t open.”
