Chapter 4 - The Man Who Was Never Supposed to Return
Lorenzo moved Isabella that afternoon.
Nobody told the staff where.
Only Clara, Vincent, Lorenzo, Emma, and I knew she was in a secured guest suite beneath the eastern wing.
Vivien was told Isabella had been taken to a private clinic.
She reacted with exactly the right amount of alarm.
That frightened me more than panic would have.
“You sent her away without telling me?” she demanded.
Lorenzo stood in the center of the formal sitting room.
“You are not her mother.”
The words struck harder than a slap.
Vivien stared at him.
“I was going to be.”
“Not anymore.”
Silence.
Her face went white.
“Lorenzo.”
He removed the engagement ring from his pocket and placed it on the table.
“You have one chance to explain Adrian Gray.”
She looked at Vincent.
There.
Not at me.
Not at Lorenzo.
At Vincent.
Lorenzo saw it.
“Why are you looking at him?”
Vivien recovered.
“Because apparently your security chief has convinced you I’m a criminal.”
Vincent said nothing.
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“Who is Gray?”
“I don’t know.”
“Isabella saw you with him.”
“She’s five.”
“Wrong answer.”
Vivien’s chin lifted.
“You are interrogating me based on something a child imagined?”
“She described his car.”
Vivien’s fingers twitched.
“She described meetings in the garage.”
Nothing.
“She described the library.”
Still nothing.
Lorenzo lowered his voice.
“Should I continue?”
Vivien’s eyes filled with tears.
“You really believe I would hurt Isabella?”
“I believe someone photographed her while she slept.”
“What?”
Her shock looked real.
Maybe it was.
Lorenzo pulled out the photograph.
Vivien stared.
For the first time, I saw genuine fear.
Not for Isabella.
For herself.
“Where did you find that?”
“In Gray’s car.”
She backed away.
“You need to get Isabella out of this house.”
“She already is.”
Vivien looked toward the hallway.
Lorenzo noticed.
“Why?”
She did not answer.
“Vivien.”
“Because Gray doesn’t make threats twice.”
That was the confession.
Lorenzo’s face turned cold.
“You know him.”
She sank onto the sofa.
“Yes.”
“Start talking.”
Vivien looked at me.
“She stays?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you framed her daughter.”
Vivien’s eyes widened.
“I did not.”
“The bracelet.”
“I own more than one.”
“The payroll records.”
“That proves nothing.”
“The medicine.”
“I never touched it.”
Lorenzo leaned forward.
“Then help me understand how your bracelet appeared beside Emma’s backpack during eight missing minutes.”
She stopped breathing.
“Eight minutes?”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
“You didn’t know how long.”
She looked at him.
“No.”
That mattered.
Vincent glanced at Lorenzo.
Vivien whispered, “Gray told me the camera would be down.”
The room froze.
Lorenzo said, “For what?”
“He wanted access to your father’s study.”
“Why?”
“He said there was something inside the safe.”
“The security token?”
“I don’t know.”
“The key?”
Her eyes flickered.
Lorenzo noticed.
“What key?”
“I never saw it.”
“Then why did you react?”
Vivien covered her face.
“This was not supposed to involve the children.”
I felt rage move through me.
“You put medicine in my daughter’s backpack.”
“No!”
Her denial cracked through the room.
Emma was safely upstairs, thank God.
Vivien looked at me.
“I moved her backpack.”
“Why?”
“Gray told me to put it beside the blue chair.”
“And you didn’t ask why?”
“He said he needed the camera angle clear.”
“For the safe?”
“Yes.”
“Then who put the bottles inside?”
“I don’t know.”
Lorenzo studied her.
“You expect me to believe you helped a stranger disable cameras and enter my father’s study but had no idea he was framing Sophia?”
“He isn’t a stranger.”
“Then tell me who he is.”
Vivien’s shoulders collapsed.
“Your father’s former partner.”
“Business partner?”
“No.”
Vincent’s face changed.
Lorenzo noticed.
“What do you know?”
Vincent shook his head.
“Rumors.”
“Speak.”
“They said Carlo Duca had another operation before you took over. Something even his senior men didn’t know about.”
“What?”
“Private medical distribution.”
I stared.
Heart medicine.
Lorenzo understood at the same time.
Vivien continued.
“Gray controlled shipments.”
“Legal?”
“No.”
The word landed heavily.
“What kind of shipments?”
“Medications that were difficult to obtain. Experimental imports. Drugs not yet approved here.”
Lorenzo looked toward the four evidence bags on the table.
“Isabella’s medicine.”
Vivien nodded.
“Her original treatment came through one of those channels.”
Lorenzo went still.
“When she was diagnosed, I paid a hospital.”
“The hospital acquired it through Gray.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I found records.”
“Where?”
“In your father’s papers.”
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
One month before Sophia began working there.
“What did Gray want?”
“The records.”
“Why?”
“Because they prove he diverted some of the medication.”
“To whom?”
Vivien shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Lorenzo looked at Vincent.
“Find out.”
Vivien stood.
“You don’t understand.”
Lorenzo faced her.
“Then make me.”
“Gray said the records could destroy families.”
“Whose?”
“He never said.”
I thought of Emma.
Her cardiology medication.
Our insurance change.
My payroll records.
Why had Gray followed us?
“Did he know about Emma?” I asked.
Vivien looked at me.
“Yes.”
My throat closed.
“How?”
“He asked about you after I saw your insurance appeal.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You told him my daughter was sick.”
“I didn’t think—”
“No. You didn’t.”
Vivien looked genuinely ashamed.
It did not make me hate her less.
“What did Gray ask?”
“Her diagnosis. Medication. Hospital.”
“Why?”
“He said he wanted to know whether she qualified for assistance.”
I laughed.
It came out broken.
“You believed that?”
“No.”
At least she admitted it.
“But I answered anyway.”
“Yes.”
Lorenzo said, “Because he had something on you.”
Vivien closed her eyes.
“What?”
“The missing money?”
Her silence answered.
Vincent stepped closer.
“Gray didn’t steal eight million from Lorenzo.”
Vivien whispered, “I did.”
Lorenzo showed no reaction.
That was somehow more frightening.
“Why?”
“My brother owed people money.”
“Eight million?”
“It started with six hundred thousand.”
“And became eight million?”
“I kept trying to cover the previous transfer.”
“You were being blackmailed.”
She nodded.
“Gray found out.”
“What did he want?”
“Access. Information. Your schedule.”
Lorenzo stared at the woman he had intended to marry.
“You sold my house piece by piece.”
Vivien began crying.
“I never wanted anyone hurt.”
Sophia snapped, “My daughter had stolen medication planted in her bag.”
“I didn’t plant it.”
“Someone did because you let him inside.”
Vivien looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
I turned away.
Sorry was a word people used when consequences belonged to someone else.
Vincent’s phone buzzed.
He checked it.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found Gray.”
“Where?”
“Traffic camera near Oyster Bay.”
“Send a team.”
Vincent shook his head.
“He’s heading here.”
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed.
“Why would he come back?”
Vivien whispered, “The key.”
Everyone looked at her.
“What does it open?” Lorenzo asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“He once said your father kept the truth somewhere cold.”
Vincent looked at Lorenzo.
“The old wine cellar.”
Lorenzo shook his head.
“Temperature controlled, but nothing secret.”
Then I remembered.
During my first month, an electrician had repaired wiring behind the wine cellar.
He complained that one wall was hollow.
“I think there’s another room.”
Lorenzo looked at me.
“What?”
“The west cellar wall.”
We went downstairs.
Behind racks of Bordeaux was stone paneling.
Vincent tapped along the surface.
Hollow.
Lorenzo found a narrow keyhole concealed behind a brass plate.
The missing key.
Gray had it.
Or wanted it.
A sound came from behind the wall.
Three knocks.
We all froze.
Another three.
Vincent pulled his gun.
Lorenzo stepped toward the concealed door.
Then a voice came from the other side.
Old.
Male.
Calm.
“Lorenzo.”
Lorenzo’s face drained of color.
May you like
The voice continued.
“If Sophia is standing beside you, ask her who her father really was.”
