Chapter 6 - What Valentina Did on the Night Chiara Died
Valentina left the study before I could stop her.
Not running.
Walking quickly.
Somehow that made me angrier.
I followed her into the gallery.
“Turn around.”
She stopped.
“Tell me.”
Her shoulders trembled.
“You will hate me.”
“I already survived believing you betrayed her.”
“This is worse.”
Nothing could have prepared me for that sentence.
Valentina turned.
“I was with Chiara the night she died.”
The hallway seemed to narrow.
“Where?”
“At Teresa’s apartment.”
“Giulia said Chiara was there.”
“I arrived later.”
“Why?”
“Chiara called me.”
My voice went low.
“After you gave Vittorio her meeting location?”
“Yes.”
“What did she want?”
“To confront me.”
“And?”
“She slapped me.”
I almost smiled through pain.
That sounded like Chiara.
Valentina cried.
“I deserved it.”
“What happened after?”
“I told her everything. Vittorio’s threats. The federal files. My fear.”
“Did she forgive you?”
“No.”
Honest.
“She said forgiveness had to come later. Truth came first.”
Also Chiara.
“She showed me documents proving Vittorio had covered Marco’s role in Dad’s death.”
“You mean Salvatore.”
Valentina flinched.
“He was our father.”
Yes.
He was.
Blood had suddenly become a smaller word.
“She also told me about your birth.”
“You knew.”
“Only that night.”
“And you hid it eight years.”
“What was I supposed to do after she died?”
“Tell me!”
“I watched you destroy three rooms after the funeral because somebody moved her perfume!”
My anger stopped.
She continued.
“You didn't eat. You barely slept. Men stood outside your study waiting to see who you would blame.”
Her voice cracked.
“If I had told you Vittorio was your biological father and Chiara believed he killed Marco, you would have started a war.”
“Maybe I had the right.”
“Maybe.”
She wiped her eyes.
“But I was scared.”
“What happened after you left Teresa’s?”
“Chiara wanted to meet a prosecutor the next morning.”
“She never reached morning.”
Valentina nodded.
“She left first. I stayed with Teresa.”
“And the crash?”
“I got a call from Luca.”
Luca looked down from the study doorway.
“He told me Chiara's car went off the road.”
“Then?”
“I drove there.”
My pulse changed.
“You were at the crash scene?”
“Yes.”
“Before police?”
“Yes.”
My hand curled.
“What did you do?”
Valentina started crying harder.
“I took her bag.”
Silence.
“What bag?”
“The documents.”
“Why?”
“I thought if police found Moretti financial records inside the car, they would tear apart the family before you even knew she was dead.”
I stared at her.
“You removed evidence.”
“Yes.”
“You contaminated the scene.”
“Yes.”
“Did you remove anything else?”
“The tape recorder.”
My stomach turned.
“Then the recordings—”
“I gave them to Teresa.”
So Valentina had helped preserve them.
And conceal them.
Both true.
“What did investigators say caused the crash?”
“Brake failure.”
“Did you believe it?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
“Teresa found a mechanic’s note.”
“What note?”
“The brake line had been cut.”
The room became silent.
“Who cut it?”
“I don't know.”
“Vittorio says ask you.”
“Because he knows I covered evidence and wants you to blame me.”
Possibly.
Then Detective Collins entered holding her phone.
“We got a warrant on Vittorio’s lake property.”
“What did you find?”
“Records.”
“Which?”
“Payments to a mechanic named Stephen Vale.”
Valentina closed her eyes.
“When?”
“Two days before Chiara’s crash.”
There it was.
Vittorio.
Or so I thought.
Collins continued.
“But there's a problem.”
“What?”
“Vale claims he wasn't paid to sabotage Chiara’s car.”
“What was he paid for?”
“To inspect another vehicle.”
“Whose?”
“Yours.”
I stared.
“What?”
According to Vale, Vittorio believed somebody planned to sabotage my car. He paid Vale secretly to inspect it because involving ordinary mechanics risked exposure.
“So why was Chiara’s brake line cut?”
“He says he doesn't know.”
Convenient.
“Is he credible?”
“We're checking.”
Then Collins showed us bank transfers.
Another payment reached Vale the day after Chiara died.
From a shell company.
Not Vittorio.
Not Valentina.
Not Luca.
The company connected to an old Moretti accountant.
Gabriel Santoro.
I knew the name.
He had died four years earlier.
Heart attack.
But before that, he managed finances for one person.
My mother.
Valentina whispered:
“No.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“Gabriel did everything for Mom.”
Our mother, Isabella.
Dead seven years.
One year after Chiara.
The story shifted again.
We searched Isabella’s old files.
In a locked drawer inside the former family office was a journal.
Not complete.
Several pages torn out.
One entry six weeks before Chiara died:
Chiara knows. I begged Vittorio to contain this, but he says she will not stop. Dante cannot learn the truth. It will destroy everything Salvatore sacrificed to build.
My mother knew Chiara was investigating.
Another entry:
Valentina is becoming suspicious. Gabriel says there are ways to solve the situation without blood. I told him absolutely not.
Another:
If anything happens to Chiara, I will never forgive Vittorio.
That suggested she did not order the death.
Then a final entry two days before the crash:
Gabriel has gone too far. I need to tell Dante.
My stomach tightened.
Tell me what?
We never knew.
The night Chiara died, my mother called me four times.
I had been in New York.
I ignored the first three because I was in a meeting.
On the fourth, I answered.
She said only:
“Come home.”
I told her I would return Friday.
Chiara died Thursday night.
I had spent eight years blaming myself for not coming sooner.
Now I wondered whether my mother had been trying to warn me.
Detective Collins reopened Gabriel Santoro’s financial history.
Two days later, we found something worse.
A payment from Gabriel to Stephen Vale.
Not for inspection.
The amount matched the sum Vale admitted receiving from whoever ordered him to damage a vehicle.
“Whose vehicle?” I asked Collins.
She looked at me.
“Chiara’s.”
My mother’s accountant had arranged the sabotage.
But why?
And had my mother known?
Before we could answer, Giulia received a call.
Her apartment building’s storage room had caught fire.
Nobody was hurt.
The damage was contained.
But one storage unit was destroyed completely.
Hers.
Teresa’s remaining boxes.
May you like
Someone was still erasing history.
And whoever it was understood that Vittorio was no longer the only person with something to hide.
