Chapter 4 - A Ghost in the Family Records|
Massimo took Sophie to a private office above a discreet law firm in downtown Chicago. She protested the entire drive, but the photographs, tracking device, and message had convinced her that pretending nothing was happening would be foolish.
The office contained no visible weapons, no guards inside, and no intimidating portraits. It was simply a quiet room with bookshelves, a conference table, and windows overlooking the river.
Massimo placed Elena's photograph on the table.
“Tell me exactly what Adriana said.”
Sophie repeated the conversation, including the claim that Massimo had never recovered from Elena's death.
He listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he turned the photograph facedown.
“Elena was supposed to marry me.”
“Were you in love?”
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation.
Sophie felt unexpectedly uncomfortable.
“What happened?”
“Her car went off a bridge during a storm. The police called it an accident. I didn't believe them.”
“Why?”
“Because she'd called me twenty minutes before it happened. She said she had discovered something about my uncle.”
Sophie remembered Vittorio's expression at breakfast.
“What did she discover?”
Massimo stared through the window.
“I never found out. Her phone disappeared. The driver was never identified. The case was closed before I could obtain the full report.”
“Did you investigate?”
“For years.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
The word carried the weight of six years of unanswered questions.
Sophie sat opposite him.
“Maybe the account was stolen.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe someone knows Elena's name will upset you.”
“Also possible.”
“Then we should look at the evidence before deciding a ghost has returned.”
He studied her.
“You say we as if you've joined my investigation.”
“I say we because someone has threatened my life, and I would like to know why.”
Massimo almost smiled.
“Fair enough.”
He called Rafael and instructed him to obtain the original police records, the trust documents, and the delivery information.
Then he asked Sophie to describe every person who had entered the flower-storage corridor on the night of the gala.
She remembered a maintenance worker, a nervous young housekeeper, and a man wearing a gray suit who had carried no flowers.
“The man had a silver watch,” she said. “And he kept checking his phone.”
“Did you see his face?”
“Not clearly.”
“Could you recognize him again?”
“I think so.”
Massimo made a note.
For the next hour, they reviewed photographs from the estate's security archive. Sophie identified the housekeeper, Elena, and the maintenance worker.
Then she saw the man in gray.
“That's him.”
Rafael enlarged the image.
His expression changed.
“That's Dominic Shaw.”
Massimo looked at him.
“Who is he?”
“Outside counsel for the Romano family trust.”
Sophie frowned.
“Why would a lawyer be near the flower room?”
Massimo's voice became cold.
“Because someone wanted access to the security corridor.”
A message arrived on Rafael's phone. The trust's emergency meeting had been moved forward to Friday morning. The vote would determine whether Massimo retained control of the family's legitimate holdings.
Vittorio had requested the meeting.
Massimo stood.
“Everything is connected.”
“Then don't go to the meeting,” Sophie said. “If your uncle is involved, walking into a room full of his allies sounds reckless.”
“Not going would surrender the trust.”
“And going might hand him your head.”
“Metaphorically, I hope.”
She stared at him.
“Was that a joke?”
“Don't get used to it.”
For a brief moment, the tension between them eased.
Then Rafael returned with a printed record.
“Elena's account was accessed two days ago. The login came from a terminal inside this building.”
Massimo looked at the report.
“Which office?”
Rafael hesitated.
“The terminal assigned to your grandmother's private secretary.”
Massimo's face hardened.
Sophie remembered Isabella's delighted smile, her insistence on breakfast, and her possession of the security code.
“Do you think your grandmother is involved?”
“No,” Massimo said.
“Because you trust her?”
“Because if Isabella wanted me dead, she wouldn't need a complicated plan.”
He picked up his coat.
“Someone is using my family to hide their tracks.”
Sophie looked at the photograph again.
“Then maybe the person we need to find isn't the one sending the messages.”
Massimo turned toward her.
“Who is it?”
“The person who benefits if you stop trusting everyone.”
Before he could respond, his phone rang.
The caller ID showed a number that had been disconnected for six years.
Massimo answered.
A woman's voice whispered through the speaker.
May you like
“Massimo, don't trust Vittorio.”
Then the call ended.
