Chapter 12 - THE NIGHT THE IRON GATES CLOSED
The mansion gates closed at 11:07 p.m.
Not figuratively.
Literally.
Steel locks engaged.
Security doubled.
Phones were collected from nonessential staff.
Nobody entered.
Nobody left.
The news called it the Moretti financial scandal.
I called it the worst job probation in recorded history.
My forged authorization appeared everywhere.
News sites used the only public photograph they could find of me.
It came from a college charity event seven years earlier.
I looked seventeen.
Headlines called me Luca Moretti’s “mystery employee.”
One channel called me his “secret financial adviser.”
I threw a pillow at the television.
Margaret turned it off.
“You should eat.”
“I’m being accused of stealing thirty million dollars.”
“You still need carbohydrates.”
“I love you.”
She placed pasta in front of me.
Across the room Luca spoke with attorneys.
Not Daniel.
Daniel Russo had disappeared.
That didn’t look good.
Adrian remained inside the mansion under guard.
Nobody trusted him completely.
Including me.
Around midnight, Luca entered the kitchen.
“Claire.”
“Am I fired?”
“No.”
“Great. My career is thriving.”
“Come with me.”
We returned to the office.
He placed my original employment forms on the desk.
“The forged signature came from this.”
I compared them.
Identical.
“Who had access?”
“Human resources.”
“Who runs HR?”
“Corporate office.”
“Under Adrian.”
Adrian sat across the room.
“Yes, thank you, I’m aware how this looks.”
I turned to him.
“Did you create my financial authorization?”
“No.”
“Did someone in your office?”
“Apparently.”
Luca looked at me.
“You need separate counsel.”
“I can’t afford separate lunch.”
“I’m paying.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No financial debts between us.”
His patience thinned.
“This isn’t buying you jewelry.”
“No, it’s buying a lawyer.”
“Exactly.”
Adrian muttered, “This is fascinating.”
We both turned.
He raised his hands.
“I’ll be quiet.”
Luca lowered his voice.
“Let me protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting.”
“You are facing a federal investigation because of me.”
“That doesn’t mean I become your responsibility.”
“Why do you fight every decent thing anyone tries to do for you?”
I stood.
“Because decent things can become leverage.”
His anger faded instantly.
He understood.
My father.
Promises.
Leaving.
Dependence.
“I’m not him,” Luca said.
The words were quiet.
I hadn’t mentioned my father.
I didn’t need to.
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like I’m waiting for repayment.”
I looked down.
That one hurt because it was fair.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“You can hire the lawyer.”
Adrian whispered, “Historic moment.”
“Adrian,” Luca and I said together.
He shut up.
At 2 a.m., the power went out.
Emergency lights flickered.
Frank’s radio activated.
“Security breach.”
Luca immediately moved me behind him.
“I hate when you do that.”
“Complain later.”
The backup generator started.
Cameras rebooted.
One feed remained black.
West wing.
We ran upstairs.
The west-wing door stood open.
Marco’s office had been searched.
Boxes overturned.
Cabinets emptied.
The old ledger gone.
Again.
But this time we knew exactly who had been inside the mansion.
Everyone.
No external entry.
The traitor was still there.
Frank ordered staff into the ballroom.
Seventeen employees.
Security.
Adrian.
Matteo, who had remained after the gala.
Margaret.
Ernesto.
Teresa.
Drivers.
Attendants.
Everyone.
Luca stood before them.
“Nobody leaves.”
Matteo laughed.
“You’ve become paranoid.”
“Someone stole from a locked room during a security failure.”
“And you think one of your cooks is The King?”
Teresa looked offended.
“I don’t even like chess.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
Luca glanced at me.
“Sorry.”
Frank reviewed access logs.
The blackout had lasted ninety-seven seconds.
Only one access badge entered the west wing.
Mine.
Every face turned toward me.
I stared at the screen.
“That’s impossible.”
Luca said nothing.
The log displayed:
CLAIRE BENNETT — ENTRY 02:03:14.
My badge was in my pocket.
I pulled it out.
Frank scanned it.
Valid.
Meaning someone had cloned it.
Or the system had been altered.
Matteo stepped forward.
“Enough, Luca.”
His voice softened.
“You want this woman innocent because you like her.”
The room went quiet.
I wished the floor would open.
Luca’s face remained unreadable.
Matteo continued.
“She appears. Money disappears. Adrian runs. Daniel vanishes. Marco’s records go missing.”
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves you’re emotionally compromised.”
Luca turned.
The atmosphere changed.
“I suggest you stop talking about Claire.”
There was no raised voice.
That made it much more effective.
Matteo stopped.
My heart behaved irresponsibly.
Frank interrupted.
“I found something.”
Security footage from the generator room showed a figure.
Dark clothing.
Face hidden.
But when the person reached toward the electrical panel, the sleeve shifted.
A tattoo appeared on the wrist.
Small crown.
Adrian went pale.
“What?”
I looked at him.
He whispered:
“My father had that tattoo.”
Luca frowned.
“Peter is dead.”
“Yes.”
Adrian stared at the frozen image.
“But there was another man who had the same one.”
“Who?”
Adrian slowly looked toward Matteo.
Every person in the ballroom followed his gaze.
Matteo’s face changed.
Just slightly.
Adrian whispered:
“Uncle Matteo.”
Matteo smiled.
Then rolled up his sleeve.
His wrist was clean.
“No tattoo.”
Adrian stared.
“I saw it when I was a kid.”
Matteo calmly replied:
“Then perhaps children remember things incorrectly.”
He walked toward the door.
Frank blocked him.
Matteo’s smile disappeared.
And that was when I noticed something.
May you like
A faint scar around his wrist.
Exactly where a tattoo might have been removed.
