Chapter 5 - Aunt Irene
Irene Moretti looked harmless.
That was probably the point.
Sixty-three.
Small.
Elegant.
Warm smile.
The kind of woman who remembered birthdays and sent handwritten Christmas cards.
She hugged Isabella.
Kissed Daniel’s cheek.
Then saw me.
Her expression barely changed.
Barely.
But I noticed.
“So this is Clara.”
I stiffened.
“How do you know my name?”
“I heard there was a new housekeeper.”
Lie.
Nobody outside the estate knew I was still employed.
Daniel saw it too.
Lorenzo was upstairs under medical supervision.
Federal agents waited discreetly on the property.
Irene did not know they were there.
Isabella invited her into the sitting room.
“Tea?”
“Please.”
Irene sat.
Perfect posture.
Mia entered carrying Mr. Buttons.
Irene’s gaze dropped to the rabbit.
Too quickly.
Daniel stepped between them.
“Aunt Irene.”
She smiled.
“Daniel. Still protective.”
He did not smile back.
She noticed.
Then Isabella placed a printed page on the coffee table.
Irene looked down.
The initials.
I.M.
“What is this?”
“You tell me.”
Irene laughed.
“I have no idea.”
“You ran foundation medical procurement.”
“So?”
“These shipments moved through your programs.”
“Thousands of shipments did.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Counterfeit chemotherapy.”
Irene’s smile disappeared.
“How dare you.”
There.
Not shock.
Anger.
She stood.
“I came to see my nephew, not be interrogated.”
From the doorway, Lorenzo’s voice answered:
“Sit down.”
Everyone turned.
He stood with a walker.
Elena beside him.
Pale.
Weak.
But upright.
Mia clapped.
“You’re walking!”
Lorenzo looked at her and smiled.
Then his eyes returned to Irene.
“Sit.”
She did.
Lorenzo moved slowly into the room.
Every step hurt.
Nobody helped unless he asked.
He lowered himself into a chair.
“Aunt Irene.”
“Lorenzo, you should be resting.”
“So should Anthony.”
Silence.
His dead driver.
Irene’s fingers tightened.
Lorenzo continued:
“Did Carlo sabotage my brakes?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you?”
Her face changed.
Very small.
Enough.
Federal agents entered.
Irene stood.
“What is this?”
“Questions,” one agent said.
She looked at Lorenzo.
“You brought federal agents into this house?”
“Yes.”
Vittorio Moretti would have considered that betrayal.
Lorenzo did not care anymore.
Irene requested an attorney.
The interview ended.
But the estate’s security logs provided evidence she had visited the garage two days before the crash.
She claimed charity paperwork.
No one believed her.
Then Elena discovered something.
Lorenzo’s blood tests from the first week after the crash contained traces of a sedative not listed in his medication chart.
Someone had been prolonging unconsciousness.
Elena looked terrified.
“I checked every medication.”
“Could someone access his IV?” I asked.
“Medical staff.”
“Family?”
Elena hesitated.
“Technically.”
Isabella looked sick.
Irene visited the medical wing repeatedly during the first week.
So did Carlo.
Carlo had not been seen since Lorenzo woke.
The picture sharpened.
The crash failed to kill Lorenzo.
Then someone tried to keep him unconscious.
Why?
Because unconscious men could not remember sabotaged brakes or hidden ledgers.
Mia’s song disrupted forty-nine days of silence.
Her little voice may not have magically awakened him.
But it stimulated something.
Enough for his brain to fight upward.
That made Mia dangerous to people who needed Lorenzo quiet.
I wanted her out.
“We’re leaving New York.”
Daniel stared.
“Where?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Clara.”
“No.”
“You can’t just—”
I raised a finger.
“Finish that sentence carefully.”
He stopped.
Good.
Lorenzo surprised me.
“She’s right.”
Daniel turned.
“What?”
“Mia shouldn’t be here.”
“It’s secure.”
“So was my SUV.”
Daniel had no answer.
Lorenzo arranged federal witness protection consultation.
Not mafia protection.
Another surprise.
I asked him:
“Why?”
“Because if I use my people, I’m asking you to trust the same system that created this.”
Exactly.
Before we could leave, Mia disappeared.
Again.
My heart nearly stopped.
We found her in Lorenzo’s room.
She stood beside the window.
Talking to someone.
A woman.
Irene.
My blood froze.
I rushed in.
“Mia.”
She turned.
“Mommy.”
Irene smiled.
“We were just talking.”
I grabbed Mia.
“What are you doing here?”
“Visiting my nephew.”
“He isn’t here.”
Irene shrugged.
“I waited.”
Mia held something.
A wrapped candy.
I took it from her hand.
“Did you eat one?”
“No.”
Irene looked offended.
“For heaven’s sake.”
I handed the candy to Elena.
“Test it.”
Irene’s face changed.
That was enough.
Federal agents detained her when laboratory results showed a heavy sedative inside.
Not poison.
Not lethal.
But enough to make a small child dangerously sick.
I nearly attacked her.
Daniel caught me.
“Let me go!”
“Clara.”
“She gave it to Mia!”
Mia began crying.
I stopped instantly.
I held her.
Irene watched us from the hallway.
Then she said:
“You have no idea what that child represents.”
I looked at her.
“She represents my daughter.”
“To you.”
“What does that mean?”
Irene smiled without warmth.
“To Carlo, she represents the only living heir Daniel would die for.”
Daniel went still.
“To me, she represents the voice that woke Lorenzo.”
Lorenzo appeared behind the agents.
His face became terrifyingly calm.
Irene continued:
“You should have kept her away from that room.”
Lorenzo’s voice was low.
“You should have kept your hands away from her.”
Agents escorted Irene out.
Before disappearing, she looked at Isabella.
“Ask Lorenzo why Sofia was really in the car that night.”
Isabella turned.
Lorenzo froze.
Daniel frowned.
“What is she talking about?”
Lorenzo looked at the floor.
I knew immediately.
Another secret.
“Lorenzo.”
He closed his eyes.
“Sofia wasn’t alone.”
“Who was with her?”
He whispered:
“A baby.”
Nobody moved.
My arms tightened around Mia.
“What baby?”
Lorenzo looked at Daniel.
May you like
Then at me.
“Sofia was pregnant when she died.”
