Chapter 11 - SOPHIA'S PERFECT LITTLE LIE|
Vincent summoned Sophia to his office at eleven the following morning.
She arrived wearing a cream-colored suit and the composed expression that had made her such an effective assistant. She placed a folder on his desk, asked whether he wanted coffee, and behaved as if nothing had changed.
Vincent did not invite her to sit.
“Tell me about Isabella Hayes.”
Sophia's face remained still for half a second too long.
“Why?”
“Answer the question.”
“I've never met her.”
“You knew I had a history with her.”
“Everyone in the company knows that.”
“Did Anthony Moretti recruit you?”
Her eyes widened.
“Excuse me?”
“Did he arrange your employment?”
“No.”
Vincent watched her carefully.
He had spent years interrogating men who lied for money, fear, or survival. He had learned that a lie did not always appear in the words themselves. Sometimes it appeared in the space before the answer.
Sophia was lying about something.
He just did not know what.
“Sit down,” he said.
She lowered herself into the chair.
“Vincent, I don't understand what's happening. Claire leaves, Marco starts acting like he has secrets, and now you're questioning me about a woman who died years ago.”
“Then explain why you resemble her so closely.”
Sophia's eyes filled with tears.
“Because I can't control what I look like.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“What do you want me to say? That I knew you were lonely? That I knew you missed her? Of course I knew. People talk. I thought I could make your life easier.”
“By becoming a ghost?”
Her expression changed.
Only briefly.
But Vincent saw it.
He walked around the desk and stopped in front of her.
“Who told you about the accident?”
“No one.”
“Who gave you the photograph?”
“What photograph?”
Vincent felt a cold certainty settle in his chest.
He had not mentioned a photograph.
Sophia realized her mistake.
“I mean, I don't know what you're talking about.”
He returned to his desk.
“Your employment is suspended pending a review. You will have no access to company systems until the review is complete.”
Her composure cracked.
“You can't do that.”
“I just did.”
“You need me.”
“I needed an assistant. I did not hire a person to manage my grief.”
Sophia stood abruptly.
“You're making a terrible mistake.”
“Possibly.”
She gathered her handbag, but before leaving, she turned toward him.
“Ask Claire what she knows. She's the one who has been digging into things that have nothing to do with her.”
Vincent's expression hardened.
“What did you just say?”
Sophia's eyes flickered.
Then she walked out.
Vincent remained still until the door closed.
He called Marco.
“Bring me everything you found about Isabella.”
Marco hesitated.
“Sir, I think this should go through counsel.”
“I'm not asking you to commit a crime. I'm asking for information.”
“Then I recommend you speak to Rachel Dunn.”
“Who is Rachel Dunn?”
“The attorney reviewing the documents.”
Vincent's hand tightened around the phone.
“You've taken this outside the organization?”
“Yes.”
“You went behind my back.”
“I did what I thought was necessary.”
Vincent ended the call and stared at the desk.
For years, he had trusted Anthony to handle sensitive matters. His uncle had been the one to guide him through the aftermath of Isabella's death, telling him to stop asking questions and move forward.
At the time, Vincent had been too consumed by grief to challenge him.
Now he wondered whether that grief had been useful to someone.
His phone rang again.
Sophia.
He declined the call.
A message appeared moments later.
If you expose me, I'll tell Claire what you did to Isabella.
Vincent read it twice.
He felt the blood drain from his face.
He had not done anything to Isabella.
At least, he did not think he had.
But there was one thing he had never admitted to anyone.
The night Isabella died, she had called him twice.
He had ignored the first call because he was arguing with his father. He had ignored the second because he was driving to a meeting.
By the time he called back, the police were at his door.
He had lived with that guilt for years.
Now Sophia was using it as a weapon.
Vincent opened his contacts and found Claire's name.
He did not call.
For the first time, he understood that the woman he had abandoned might possess the one thing he desperately needed: the ability to see his family without believing its carefully constructed stories.
May you like
But Claire had already chosen to leave.
And he had no right to demand that she return simply because his own world was beginning to collapse.
