Chapter 5 - THE WARNING ON MY KITCHEN TABLE|
I didn't enter the apartment immediately.
I stood in the doorway with my keys clenched between my fingers, staring at the white rose on the counter.
The windows were closed. The curtains hadn't moved. Nothing appeared broken or disturbed.
That made it worse.
Whoever had entered hadn't needed to force their way in.
I stepped backward and called the police.
While I waited outside, I called Evelyn.
“Someone was inside my apartment.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Don't touch anything. I'm coming.”
The police arrived first. They checked the rooms, examined the lock, and found no obvious sign of forced entry. One officer asked whether I had recently changed the locks.
“I changed them when I moved in.”
“Then someone may have had a key.”
I thought of the spare key I had given Alexander years ago.
He had never returned it.
I felt suddenly foolish for assuming that leaving meant he would respect the boundary.
Evelyn arrived with a locksmith. By midnight, the locks had been replaced.
The rose was taken as evidence. There was no note, no fingerprint that gave us a name, and no useful camera footage from the building's entrance.
But the next morning, I received a call from a number I didn't recognize.
“Claire Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Nathan Cole. I was at the Moretti family celebration.”
I remembered him immediately. Alexander's closest friend. The man who had questioned him when he removed his wedding ring.
“What do you want?”
“To warn you.”
“About what?”
“About Sophia.”
I looked around my kitchen.
“I'm listening.”
“She isn't the person Alexander thinks she is.”
“That sounds like a problem for Alexander.”
“It's becoming your problem, too.”
I said nothing.
Nathan continued.
“Sophia came back to Chicago with a business proposal. She claims she has investors interested in a redevelopment project. Alexander has been meeting with her privately.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“The project is tied to a company that owns part of the building where your foundation used to operate.”
I frowned.
“I don't have a foundation.”
“You used to. The Bennett Family Fund. Your mother established it before she died.”
I sat down.
My mother had died when I was twenty-three. Her small charitable fund had been folded into a larger organization years later. I had never managed it personally.
“Why would Sophia be interested in that?”
“Because your mother's fund owns a controlling share in a property trust. Someone wants that share transferred.”
I stared at the wall.
“Who?”
“I don't know yet. But the paperwork has your signature on it.”
My stomach turned.
“I never signed anything.”
“That's why I'm calling.”
A car horn sounded outside Nathan's window.
He lowered his voice.
“Listen to me. Don't meet Sophia alone. Don't sign anything Alexander puts in front of you. And don't assume he's the person making the decisions.”
“Are you saying Alexander is being used?”
“I'm saying he's not asking the right questions.”
The call ended.
I immediately contacted Evelyn.
By noon, she had located the property trust documents. My mother's fund still held a valuable interest in a historic building near the Chicago River. It was scheduled for redevelopment, and the trust required my approval for any transfer.
Someone had submitted a preliminary transfer request.
My name was typed at the bottom.
The signature looked convincing.
But it wasn't mine.
Evelyn studied it carefully.
“This is forgery.”
“Can we stop the transfer?”
“Yes. But we need to act before the review meeting next week.”
I placed both hands over my stomach.
The baby moved.
I wanted a quiet life. A safe home. A child who would never have to hear the word Mafia whispered around a dinner table.
Instead, someone had brought Alexander's world to my door.
That evening, Nathan sent another message.
I found out who submitted the transfer request.
A second message followed.
It was filed through Alexander's private office.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
Then a third message appeared.
And Claire, the person who approved it was Alexander himself.
