Chapter 17 - The Family's Last Lie|
The scandal spread through Chicago before noon.
News outlets repeated Vittorio's claims. Anonymous sources accused Massimo of financial crimes, coercion, and the murder of Elena Marchetti. The trust suspended all major decisions, and several business partners announced they were reconsidering their relationships with the Romano family.
Sophie watched the reports from the hospital lounge.
“They're making him look guilty before anyone has seen the evidence.”
“That's the point,” Clara said. “If people believe the story first, the truth arrives too late.”
Massimo's attorney advised him not to speak publicly.
“Vittorio wants you angry,” the lawyer said. “He wants you to react emotionally.”
Massimo looked at Sophie.
“Then we don't react. We release the evidence.”
The attorney shook his head.
“The original ledger is important, but the defense will argue that it was altered. We need a witness who can authenticate the records.”
Clara lifted her chin.
“My father kept the accounts. I have his notes and the recordings.”
“You'd need to testify.”
“I will.”
Sophie took her sister's hand.
“You don't have to do this if it puts you in danger.”
Clara looked at her.
“I spent years hiding because I believed fear was the only thing keeping me alive. I'm tired of letting him decide how I live.”
The attorney arranged a formal meeting with investigators. Clara gave a statement, authenticated several documents, and explained how she had obtained the ledger.
Massimo provided his financial records and the original samples of his signature.
Then Isabella arrived.
She brought a small notebook that had belonged to Sophie's mother. It contained dates, names, and references to conversations with Vittorio.
One entry was underlined three times.
Vittorio said Daniel must be removed before the meeting.
Another entry mentioned Dominic Shaw and a police official who had later retired.
Isabella agreed to testify.
“I stayed silent for too long,” she said. “I won't do it again.”
Sophie embraced her.
For the first time, Isabella did not ask to be forgiven.
She simply held Sophie and cried.
The next obstacle was Adriana.
She had remained silent throughout the scandal, and the investigators believed her family might possess records of the trust's negotiations.
Massimo called her.
“I need to know what your father signed.”
Adriana was quiet for a long moment.
“If I help you, my family will lose its position.”
“If you don't, innocent people may go to prison.”
“You sound very certain that you're innocent.”
“I know I didn't forge the documents. I know I didn't kill Elena. The rest is for the investigators to determine.”
Adriana sighed.
“Meet me tomorrow.”
The meeting took place in a quiet restaurant. Adriana arrived alone and placed a folder on the table.
“My father kept copies of every agreement,” she said. “Vittorio promised him a controlling interest in the trust after Massimo was removed.”
“And you knew?”
“I knew there was a plan to replace Massimo. I didn't know about the deaths.”
Massimo studied her.
“Why help now?”
Adriana looked at Sophie.
“Because I was angry that he chose someone else, even if he never chose me in the first place. I nearly let that anger make me a terrible person.”
She pushed the folder forward.
Inside were signed agreements, payment records, and an email from Dominic describing how the accusations would be released.
It was the missing link.
As Massimo's attorney reviewed the documents, Adriana turned to Sophie.
“I owe you an apology.”
Sophie nodded.
“I accept it.”
“That's all?”
“What else do you want? A ceremony?”
Adriana laughed despite herself.
“No. I suppose I don't deserve one.”
“You deserve the chance to do better. What you do with it is up to you.”
That evening, the investigators announced that they were preparing charges against Dominic and seeking a warrant for Vittorio.
For the first time, the balance shifted.
Then Rafael received a message from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of Isabella leaving the courthouse.
May you like
The words beneath it were brief.
THE OLD WOMAN KNOWS TOO MUCH.
