Daniel began to cry.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
He simply pressed his face against his father's shoulder and released three years of fear.
Lorenzo held him.
He did not ask another question.
He did not look at his phone.
For the first time in years, he allowed the entire criminal empire to wait.
When Daniel finally fell asleep, Lorenzo carried him upstairs himself.
He tucked the blanket around his son and placed Elena's photograph beside the bed.
Then he returned to the library.
Marco was waiting.
"She's in the west sitting room," he said.
"Good."
"There's something else."
Lorenzo stopped.
"What?"
"I checked the security records."
"And?"
"Someone deleted footage from the west corridor on the night Elena died."
Lorenzo turned slowly.
"Who had access?"
"Three people. You, Isabella, and the former head of security."
"Where is the former head of security?"
"Dead."
"How?"
"Officially, a heart attack. Two years ago."
Lorenzo looked toward the dark window.
"Unofficially?"
Marco hesitated.
"We're checking."
Lorenzo walked to his desk.
He opened the bottom drawer and removed a black leather folder.
Inside were old documents relating to Elena's accident.
He had never examined them closely.
At the time, he had been too devastated to care about anything except burying his wife and protecting his son.
Now he read every page.
The insurance payment had been unusually large.
The repair records were incomplete.
And one signature appeared on three separate documents.
Adrian Voss.
Lorenzo called his attorney.
"Wake up."
The man answered after several rings.
"Mr. Moretti?"
"I need the original records from Elena's accident."
A pause.
"Those files were closed years ago."
"Then reopen them."
"Is there a problem?"
"Yes."
Lorenzo looked at the photograph on his desk.
"My wife may have been murdered."
Silence.
Then the attorney said, "I'll be there within the hour."
Lorenzo ended the call.
He opened the safe beneath his desk.
Inside was a small silver pendant.
It had belonged to Elena.
He had found it in her car after the accident.
He had kept it ever since.
He turned it over.
On the back were two engraved initials.
E.M.
And beneath them, a date.
The day Daniel was born.
Lorenzo closed his fist around it.
He had spent three years believing that he had failed to protect his wife.
Now he wondered whether he had unknowingly allowed the person responsible for her death to sleep beside him.
The following morning, Isabella woke to find two guards outside her bedroom.
She was still wearing the silk robe she had put on before bed.
"What's happening?"
Neither man answered.
She opened the door wider.
"I need to speak to Lorenzo."
"He's in the study."
"Then move."
The guards remained still.
She stared at them.
"Do you know who I am?"
One of them lowered his eyes.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then open the door."
"We have instructions."
Her face hardened.
"From whom?"
"Mr. Moretti."
She stepped back.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she closed the door.
Inside the bedroom, she retrieved her phone.
She called Adrian.
No answer.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
Then she sent a message.
THE BOY TALKED.
A minute passed.
Her phone vibrated.
ADRIAN: WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?
ISABELLA: NOTHING. LORENZO KNOWS ABOUT THE PHOTOGRAPHS.
ADRIAN: GET OUT OF THE HOUSE.
ISABELLA: I CAN'T.
ADRIAN: THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO ME THREE YEARS AGO.
She stared at the screen.
Another message arrived.
ADRIAN: HE IS NOT THE MAN YOU THINK HE IS.
Isabella threw the phone onto the bed.
She had known Lorenzo was dangerous.
That was part of the attraction.
He possessed a kind of authority that ordinary men spent their lives pretending to have.
But she had never expected him to turn that authority against her.
She dressed quickly.
Then she opened the small safe inside her wardrobe.
The pregnancy test was still there.
She placed it inside her handbag.
She also took a passport, a second phone, and a small envelope of cash.
At the bottom of the safe was another object.
A photograph of Elena.
Isabella stared at it.
For years, she had imagined this day.
The day when the past would finally catch up with her.
She had thought she would be ready.
She was not.
A knock came at the door.
"Mrs. Moretti."
She closed the safe.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Moretti requests your presence in the library."
Isabella looked at herself in the mirror.
She adjusted her hair.
Then she smiled.
If she was going to lose everything, she would at least make him work for it.
In the library, Lorenzo sat behind his desk.
Marco stood near the window.
Rosa was seated in an armchair.
On the desk were the photographs Daniel had discovered, the envelope Rosa had brought, and a thick folder containing Elena's accident records.
Isabella entered.
"Good morning."
Nobody answered.
She looked at the papers.
Then at Lorenzo.
"Are we having a family meeting?"
"Sit down."
She remained standing.
"You're frightening the staff."
"Sit."
She slowly took the chair opposite him.
Lorenzo opened the folder.
"Do you remember Adrian Voss?"