Chapter 8 - His Mother’s Signature
Sofia Rinaldi arrived at breakfast dressed in black silk and diamonds, as if dawn were an appointment she had scheduled weeks in advance.
She looked at Alessia’s leg brace.
Then at Valerio.
“Why am I being questioned by my own security staff?”
“Because your authorization code paid the man who stole Alessia’s purse.”
Sofia’s expression did not move.
“That is absurd.”
Marco placed the payment record on the table.
Sofia did not touch it.
“My account was compromised.”
“By whom?” Alessia asked.
Sofia’s eyes turned to her.
“You have always asked questions at the worst possible time.”
“Funny. People keep saying that right before I find something.”
Valerio said, “Mother.”
Sofia exhaled.
“Three years ago, I gave Cesare emergency access to the security accounts.”
“Why?”
“Because your father was dying and someone had to manage the family.”
Valerio’s voice sharpened. “You never revoked it?”
“I thought I had.”
Marco checked the audit history.
The access had been used seventeen times in the last year.
Payments to private investigators.
A pharmacy courier.
A clinic administrator.
And a mechanic.
Alessia’s skin went cold.
“Which mechanic?”
Marco read the name.
It matched the shop that serviced her car two days before the crash.
Sofia closed her eyes.
Valerio stood so abruptly his chair struck the wall.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You gave him the money.”
“I gave him access because your father trusted him.”
“My father trusted a loaded gun if it wore a suit.”
Sofia slapped the table.
“Do not speak about him that way.”
Alessia flinched at the sound.
Sofia saw it.
For the first time, some of her certainty disappeared.
“I did not know anyone was hurting you,” she said.
Alessia stared at her.
“Did you know they were watching me?”
Silence.
That was enough.
Sofia looked toward Valerio.
“After the crash, Cesare told me Alessia had uncovered irregularities in the foundation. He said rivals might use her to reach you.”
“So you monitored me.”
“For your safety.”
“Did you read my emails?”
Sofia said nothing.
Alessia felt sick.
Then Marco’s phone chimed.
He opened a security alert.
The old archive door had been opened remotely.
Everyone at the table turned toward the hallway.
The archive was two floors below them.
Marco drew his weapon.
Valerio said, “Stay here.”
Alessia grabbed her cane.
“Absolutely not.”
They reached the archive three minutes later.
The steel door stood open.
May you like
Inside, the crash files were gone.
And on the floor lay a red high-heeled shoe.
