Chapter 6 - The Door Outside the Nursery
Elena did not move.
Three more knocks came.
Pierce backed toward the bassinet.
“Who is it?” she whispered.
Elena shook her head.
The voice on the phone continued.
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“You really should.”
Matteo stirred in Elena’s arms.
She forced herself to breathe slowly.
Fear traveled through hands.
Through shoulders.
Through voices.
She had spent the entire day teaching Lorenzo that lesson.
Now she had to live it.
“Where is Lorenzo?”
The caller ignored her.
“You are very loyal for someone who has worked there nineteen days.”
“I’m not loyal to the house.”
“No?”
“I’m loyal to the baby.”
A pause.
“Interesting.”
The handle moved.
Locked.
Pierce grabbed the heavy lamp from the bedside table.
Elena mouthed: Don’t.
The last thing Matteo needed was panic turning into violence around him.
“Why do you want him?” Elena asked.
“I don’t.”
“Then leave.”
“I want what Lorenzo will do because of him.”
That answer terrified her.
This had never been about killing Matteo.
It was about controlling Lorenzo.
A father frightened enough to believe his child might die could be manipulated.
Keep the doctors coming.
Keep the household unstable.
Keep Lorenzo desperate.
Make him depend on whoever offered solutions.
“Who are you?”
The caller hung up.
Elena stared at her screen.
Outside, footsteps moved away.
Pierce lowered the lamp.
“Is he gone?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Lorenzo’s voice came from the hallway.
“Elena!”
She almost opened immediately.
Stopped.
“Tell me what I said to you when you made me hold Matteo.”
Silence outside.
Then:
“You told me I looked like I was about to fire somebody.”
Elena unlocked the door.
Lorenzo entered with Marco behind him.
His shirt sleeve was torn.
A thin cut crossed his cheek.
No weapon was visible.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Mrs. Caruso?”
“Alive.”
Elena exhaled.
Lorenzo looked at Matteo.
“He okay?”
“Yes.”
Only then did his shoulders lower.
Marco closed the door.
“We know who called you.”
“How?”
“He made a mistake.”
Marco held up a phone.
“Disposable number, but it connected through the estate’s private signal booster.”
“Meaning?”
“Only someone authorized had access.”
Elena stared at him.
“Who?”
Marco looked at Lorenzo.
Lorenzo said the name.
“Dante Vale.”
Elena had heard it once.
Lorenzo’s longtime legal adviser.
The man who drafted contracts.
Managed the family trusts.
Moved money between foundations.
Handled confidential negotiations.
And, according to Mrs. Caruso’s interpretation of Sofia’s final words, possibly the man Lorenzo trusted with his life.
“Where is he?”
“Gone,” Marco said.
“So you don’t have him.”
“No.”
“What about the ledger?”
Lorenzo pulled a weathered book from inside his coat.
“We have this.”
He placed it on the table.
Columns of numbers filled the pages.
Transfers.
Dates.
Account codes.
Lorenzo turned to a marked section.
“Vittorio moved money into protected trusts for me.”
“You know why?”
“Yes.”
“He was trying to give you a way out.”
Lorenzo’s expression was conflicted.
“He should have told me.”
“Would you have listened?”
He did not answer.
Marco almost smiled grimly.
“No,” Elena said. “You wouldn’t.”
“I’m beginning to dislike how confidently you answer questions for me.”
“You’re beginning?”
That almost earned another smile.
Then Lorenzo pointed to the ledger.
“Dante discovered the accounts.”
“And stole from them?”
“At first.”
“Why?”
“To create leverage. He transferred some into companies he controlled.”
“Then?”
Marco answered.
“He realized there was a bigger opportunity.”
“What?”
“Lorenzo was preparing to reduce several operations after Matteo was born.”
Elena looked at Lorenzo.
“You were already planning to leave?”
“Not leave.”
He glanced at Matteo.
“Change.”
Marco continued.
“Dante didn’t want that.”
“Why?”
“He made millions managing the old system.”
Elena understood.
Peace was bad for men who profited from chaos.
“So Sofia found out.”
Lorenzo nodded.
“She confronted Dante.”
“And Halberg?”
“Dante paid him.”
“To kill her?”
“No.”
Lorenzo’s voice was strained.
“To sedate her long enough for Dante to find the ledger.”
“But she died.”
“Complications from the altered medication.”
Elena closed her eyes.
An accidental death caused by deliberate wrongdoing was no comfort.
“And Matteo?”
Marco answered.
“Dante needed Lorenzo unstable.”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
“What was in the bottles?”
“Investigators are testing them.”
“Was it poison?”
“We don’t know.”
Lorenzo looked at his son.
“But it appears designed to cause stomach pain and nausea, not immediate fatal harm.”
“He wanted Matteo sick.”
“Yes.”
“So you would stay desperate.”
“Yes.”
“And who physically tampered with the bottles?”
“Halberg claims Dante did some himself. Someone else helped.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Elena looked at Pierce.
The nurse shook her head.
“Not me.”
“I believe you.”
Pierce looked relieved.
Lorenzo turned toward Marco.
“Vittorio?”
“Safe. Furious. Also willing to testify about the financial transfers.”
Lorenzo gave a humorless smile.
“That will be a historic first.”
“What about Caruso?”
“She’s with Vittorio.”
Elena frowned.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“They’ve known each other forty years.”
“That doesn’t make it less dangerous.”
“No.”
Lorenzo looked tired.
“But right now, neither is our enemy.”
Matteo began fussing.
Everyone went quiet automatically.
Elena almost smiled.
A day ago, armed men had turned the nursery into a crisis room.
Now three adults froze because a baby made a tiny sound.
“Hungry?” Lorenzo asked.
Elena checked the time.
“Probably.”
She prepared a sealed bottle under everyone’s watch.
Then, rather than sitting, she handed it to Lorenzo.
He stared at her.
“What?”
“You feed him.”
His expression changed.
“Elena.”
“You learned how to hold him.”
“He eats for you.”
“He needs to learn that he’s safe with you too.”
Lorenzo looked genuinely afraid.
“I don’t want to ruin the progress.”
“You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t.”
He gave her a look.
“Excellent reassurance.”
“Sit.”
He sat.
Elena placed Matteo in his arms.
The baby stared up at his father.
Lorenzo brought the bottle close.
Matteo turned away.
Pain crossed Lorenzo’s face.
“See?”
“Wait.”
“He doesn’t want it.”
“Wait.”
Thirty seconds passed.
Then a minute.
Lorenzo did nothing.
No forcing.
No pleading.
No tense question about ounces.
He simply held his son.
“Talk to him,” Elena whispered.
Lorenzo looked down.
“I’m here.”
Matteo blinked.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
His voice cracked.
“No doctors standing over you. No clocks.”
Matteo’s fingers curled around his shirt.
Lorenzo swallowed.
“You don’t have to do anything for me.”
Elena’s throat tightened.
“You don’t have to be a Rossi.”
Marco looked away.
“You just have to be Matteo.”
The baby turned toward the bottle.
Lorenzo waited.
Matteo opened his mouth.
One sip.
Then another.
Lorenzo’s eyes filled.
Elena smiled.
“Don’t react.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re crying.”
“I have allergies.”
“In November?”
“Be quiet.”
Matteo drank.
Two ounces.
Then three.
Lorenzo did not move.
When the bottle was empty, he stared at it.
“My son ate.”
“Yes.”
“My son ate for me.”
“Yes.”
His shoulders shook once.
Elena quietly left him the dignity of looking toward the window.
Then Marco’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“When?”
A pause.
“Seal the exits.”
Lorenzo looked up.
“What?”
Marco lowered the phone.
“They found the second person who helped Dante.”
“Who?”
Marco hesitated.
Lorenzo stood.
“Who?”
Marco looked directly at Elena.
“The employment records were fake.”
Elena frowned.
“What employment records?”
“Yours.”
The room went still.
Elena stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
Marco held up his phone.
A photograph appeared.
A woman.
Elena’s face.
Her name.
But beneath it was a second identity.
May you like
One she had never seen before.
And according to the file, Elena Marlow had died three years ago.
