Chapter 5 - Isabella’s Confession
Isabella had taken Sophia.
But not far.
She drove directly to a church three miles away.
Police found them in the basement.
Sophia was unharmed.
Eating crackers.
Isabella sat on the floor crying.
Roman entered.
His sister looked up.
“Before you kill me—”
“I promised Sophia I wouldn’t.”
Sophia smiled.
“I made him promise.”
Isabella almost laughed.
Roman crouched.
“Why did you take her?”
“Because Anthony called.”
“And?”
“He said the cake failed.”
Roman’s expression darkened.
“He admitted it?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“The vault contents.”
“Why Sophia?”
“To force you.”
“And you?”
“I knew someone inside the estate was still helping him.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Roman stared.
“Useful.”
“I’m trying.”
Sophia interrupted.
“Aunt Isabella cried in the car.”
Roman looked at her.
Isabella wiped her face.
“Thank you, detective.”
Sophia nodded proudly.
Roman sent his daughter upstairs with Mara.
Then sat opposite Isabella.
“Tell me everything.”
She did.
Anthony Vale was her biological father.
She learned at nineteen.
Roman’s father, Dominic Valente, had raised her publicly because Anthony was married and the scandal threatened business alliances.
Dominic treated Isabella as family.
Mostly.
But never equally.
She always felt it.
Anthony used that resentment.
“He told me Valente money should have been partly mine.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“Not enough for him.”
Anthony recruited her into hidden pharmaceutical investments.
Experimental allergy treatments.
Immunotherapy compounds.
Some potentially valuable.
Some unsafe.
Elena discovered it.
“Did you threaten Elena?”
“Yes.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“I wanted her silence.”
“What did you offer?”
“Money.”
“She refused.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I tried to take control of Sophia’s trust because Anthony said we needed funding to correct trial failures.”
Roman’s eyes hardened.
“You used my daughter’s inheritance.”
“Tried.”
“Same difference emotionally.”
“I know.”
“Did you hurt Elena?”
“No.”
“Did Anthony?”
Isabella began crying.
“Yes.”
Roman stopped.
“What did he do?”
“He poisoned her slowly.”
Silence.
Roman looked away.
He could not breathe.
“How?”
“Immune-suppressing compounds. He made symptoms resemble cancer progression.”
“She did have cancer.”
“Yes.”
“But he accelerated it?”
“Yes.”
Roman’s hands curled.
Isabella continued quickly.
“I found out too late.”
“How late?”
“After the funeral.”
“You thought she died.”
“Yes.”
“Then how was she alive?”
“Anthony staged the death because Elena learned enough to destroy him.”
Roman stared.
“He took her.”
“Yes.”
“And you helped?”
“Not knowingly.”
“Isabella.”
“I signed transport papers believing they were hospice documents.”
Roman stood.
She flinched.
He walked to the wall.
Not toward her.
Progress.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Anthony had evidence tying me to the trials.”
“Coward.”
“Yes.”
She accepted it.
“Then three months later I found Elena alive at his clinic.”
“You tried helping her escape.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He moved her.”
“Where?”
“I never found out.”
“Why attack Sophia now?”
“Because Anthony needs the vault evidence destroyed.”
Roman turned.
“But why contaminate the cake?”
Isabella swallowed.
“He wanted to scare me.”
“What?”
“He knew I’d be at the party.”
Roman stared.
“He was going to kill Sophia to punish you?”
“No.”
Isabella shook her head.
“That’s what I thought at first.”
“But?”
“The dosage.”
Mara entered quietly.
“What about it?”
Isabella looked at her.
“The injection and cake exposure were meant to cause severe reaction, but Anthony planned a rescue.”
Roman’s eyes narrowed.
“What kind?”
“He wanted Dr. Sloan to administer an experimental antidote.”
Mara understood.
“Public miracle.”
Isabella nodded.
“He needed a dramatic success.”
Roman felt sick.
Sophia’s life was a clinical demonstration.
“If the antidote worked, he’d have data.”
“Yes.”
“And if it didn’t?”
Isabella cried.
“He said acceptable losses happen in medicine.”
Roman closed his eyes.
That sentence condemned Anthony more than any confession.
Then Mara asked:
“Who switched the bracelet?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why?”
“Emergency responders would follow the wrong protocol, forcing use of Anthony’s antidote.”
Roman looked at her.
“Everything was designed.”
“Yes.”
“Who is helping him inside?”
Isabella hesitated.
“I suspect Luca.”
Roman froze.
His security chief.
His closest friend since they were eighteen.
“No.”
Isabella nodded.
“Anthony paid someone using Luca’s private holding company.”
Roman’s chest tightened.
Mara watched him.
“Could be forged.”
“Maybe.”
Roman called Luca.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Security located his phone in the mansion basement.
Roman drove back.
The house remained locked.
Luca’s office empty.
In a hidden drawer, they found cash.
Medical records.
And a photograph of Elena alive.
But also another item.
A handwritten note.
Roman, if you find this, Anthony finally realized I’ve been feeding you his evidence. Do not trust the money trail. I built it so he would trust me. Find Elena at Blackwood. — Luca
Roman stared.
Luca was undercover.
Again, someone had hidden truth because they assumed Roman could not handle it.
Mara sighed.
“You really inspire secrecy.”
“Apparently.”
“What is Blackwood?”
Isabella knew.
A decommissioned Valente hotel near the Canadian border.
Anthony’s father once owned it.
Roman looked at Mara.
“We’re finding Elena.”
Mara nodded.
Then Sophia appeared in the doorway.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your father.”
“That’s not a reason.”
Mara covered a laugh.
Roman sighed.
“It is tonight.”
Sophia crossed her arms.
“Mommy might be there.”
Roman’s face softened.
“I know.”
“Then tell her I waited.”
He crouched.
“I will.”
She touched his cheek.
“And don’t kill anybody.”
Roman closed his eyes.
“Yes, princess.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
Another inconvenient promise.
May you like
He kept making those around her.
And increasingly, he wanted to keep them.
