Chapter 4 - THE RESIGNATION LETTER|
Elena pulled her arm free.
"Don't touch me."
Vivienne stared at her as though she had just spoken in a foreign language.
"Do you understand who you're speaking to?"
"Yes. A woman who is trying to take something that doesn't belong to her."
Alessandro stepped between them.
"Enough. Elena, go."
The footsteps outside grew louder.
A security guard appeared at the doorway.
"Mr. Moretti, we have a problem. Two men are asking for Miss Brooks."
Alessandro's face tightened.
"Who sent them?"
"They say they're here on Mr. Moretti's instructions."
Elena felt her stomach drop.
"Rafael?"
The guard hesitated.
"That's what they claim."
Alessandro looked toward the private elevator.
"Take the service corridor. Now."
Elena grabbed the velvet box and her handbag.
She did not take the gift. She left it on the desk.
As she passed Vivienne, the other woman leaned close.
"Walk away, Elena. You have no idea what you're interrupting."
Elena kept moving.
She reached the service elevator and pressed the button.
Her phone vibrated.
A message from Rafael.
Where are you?
For a moment, she wanted to tell him everything.
Then another message appeared.
Vivienne says you took something from Alessandro's office. Bring it upstairs.
Elena looked at the folded paper in her hand.
He was asking for it.
Or someone was using his phone.
She stepped into the elevator.
The doors closed.
On the ground floor, she exited through the loading area and walked three blocks before calling a cab.
Only when she reached her mother's apartment did she realize she was still holding the resignation letter.
It had become damp from the rain.
She placed it on the kitchen table and unfolded it.
The words were familiar.
Dear Mr. Moretti,
Please accept this letter as formal notice of my resignation...
She had written it seventeen times because she had never been able to finish the final sentence.
Now she knew what to write.
I cannot continue working for a man whose family may have destroyed mine.
She signed it.
Her mother, Margaret Brooks, entered the kitchen in a pale blue robe.
"Elena? Honey, why are you home so late?"
Elena folded the paper.
"Mom, did Dad ever mention a lighthouse account?"
Her mother's face changed.
The color seemed to drain from it.
"Where did you hear that?"
"From something he left behind."
Margaret sat down slowly.
"Your father told me never to discuss it."
"Why?"
"Because he believed the people responsible for his death were still watching us."
Elena's breath caught.
"Mom, do you know who killed him?"
Margaret stared at the table.
Then she whispered:
"I know who paid the man who followed him."
"Who?"
May you like
Margaret looked toward the window.
"Rafael Moretti's father."
