Chapter 7 - THE HOUSE THAT WASN'T SAFE|
I ran upstairs before anyone could stop me.
Lily was asleep in the guest bedroom, her rabbit tucked beneath her arm. Camilla sat in the chair beside her, reading a book.
I checked the windows, the closet, and the bathroom.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
But the photograph on Giovanni's phone had been taken from the doorway.
Someone had been inside.
"Get her away from here," I whispered.
Camilla stood immediately.
"What's wrong?"
"Someone got into the house."
She gathered Lily's things while Elena called the security team.
Giovanni arrived in the doorway.
"Jessica, we need to move."
"Where?"
"Another property. A place no one knows about."
I looked at him.
"You said this house was secure."
"It was supposed to be."
"Then your people failed."
He didn't defend them.
"I know."
Two minutes later, Marco reported that the outside cameras had been disabled for eleven seconds. The intruder had entered through a service door, photographed Lily, and left without touching anything else.
The security team had found a small device attached beneath a hallway table.
It was a tracking beacon.
I felt sick.
"How long has it been there?"
"Possibly since you arrived," Marco said.
"Could they have followed us from Camilla's?"
"Yes."
Giovanni's jaw tightened.
"Find the person who brought it inside."
We moved Lily to a different residence, this one outside the city. It was a restored country house with a gated entrance, a large garden, and a separate security building.
I insisted on inspecting the rooms before Lily entered.
Giovanni waited outside while I checked every window and door.
When I finally let Lily come inside, she looked around with wide eyes.
"Mommy, is this a castle?"
"Something like that."
"Do we live here now?"
"Just for a little while."
She considered the answer.
"Can I have pancakes?"
Camilla laughed despite everything.
"Yes, princess. We can make pancakes."
That night, I found Giovanni in the kitchen.
He was staring at a cup of untouched coffee.
"You're not sleeping," I said.
"Neither are you."
I leaned against the counter.
"Who took the picture?"
"Someone with access to the first residence. I'm reviewing the staff."
"Could it have been one of your men?"
"Yes."
His honesty surprised me.
"You're not worried about trusting the wrong person?"
"I worry about it every day."
I watched him.
"Is that why you never smile?"
A faint expression crossed his face.
"I smile."
"Not often."
"Perhaps I need better company."
I rolled my eyes.
"Don't flirt with me while my daughter is being threatened."
"I wasn't flirting."
"Then you're worse at conversation than I thought."
He laughed quietly.
For a moment, the tension eased.
Then he told me about Isabella.
They had met when he was twenty-five and she was studying art restoration. She had hated his family name and refused to accept expensive gifts. She was the only person who could challenge him without raising her voice.
"She wanted a normal life," he said. "A small house. A garden. Children who could run through the kitchen without bodyguards following them."
"Did you give her that?"
"I tried. But I never understood how much she was sacrificing."
He showed me another photograph.
Isabella stood beside a little girl in a yellow coat. The child was holding a paper butterfly.
"She looks happy," I said.
"She was."
"Maybe she wanted to protect her daughter from your world."
Giovanni looked down.
"Maybe she wanted to protect her from me."
I didn't know what to say.
Later, while Camilla helped Lily get ready for bed, I checked my email.
A message had arrived from an address I didn't recognize.
It contained a scanned hospital birth certificate.
The child's name was listed as Sofia Isabella Fioraldi.
The mother was Isabella Fioraldi.
The father was Giovanni Fioraldi.
But the date of birth was wrong.
May you like
It was six months earlier than the date Giovanni had been told.
And the signature authorizing the original death certificate belonged to Giovanni's father.
