Chapter 13 - MY NAME WAS ON THE MONEY
Matteo remained at the mansion until morning.
Not because he confessed.
Because Luca asked him to stay.
In Moretti language, that was apparently enough.
At seven, federal investigators arrived.
They interviewed Luca first.
Then Adrian.
Then me.
My attorney, Rachel Kim, was terrifying in ways I immediately admired.
When an investigator asked whether Luca had ever given me cash, Rachel interrupted.
“Relevant cash or birthday-money hypotheticals?”
I nearly smiled.
The questioning lasted three hours.
They showed me documents.
My forged signature.
Authorization records.
An account opened in my name.
Balance:
$2.4 million.
I stared.
“I would remember having that.”
The investigator didn’t smile.
“The account was opened nine days after you started working for Mr. Moretti.”
“I was trying to decide whether I could afford new tires nine days after I started.”
“Did Mr. Moretti ask you to move money?”
“No.”
“Did Adrian Vale?”
“No.”
“Did Daniel Russo?”
“No.”
“Matteo Moretti?”
“No.”
They slid another document forward.
Beneficiary:
CLAIRE E. BENNETT.
“Is E your middle initial?”
“Yes.”
“How would somebody know?”
“Employment paperwork.”
Rachel wrote something.
The investigator continued.
“The account requires identification.”
“I never opened it.”
“Someone submitted a copy of your driver’s license.”
Human resources had that too.
Every road led back inside the company.
When I returned upstairs, Luca waited.
“What happened?”
“I’m apparently richer than expected.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I disagree.”
He looked exhausted.
“Rachel says the account helps us.”
“How?”
“Too obvious.”
Those words again.
Someone had built such a perfect case against me that it became suspicious.
I sat.
“Why me?”
Luca didn’t answer.
“Seriously.”
I looked at him.
“They could frame Adrian. Daniel. Matteo. Why the maid?”
“Because nobody would believe you could challenge it.”
I understood.
Disposable.
Nobody lasted six weeks.
A temporary employee could be blamed and forgotten.
Except I hadn’t left.
“That’s why the previous maids disappeared.”
Luca frowned.
“Elena was threatened.”
“Yes. But maybe not only her.”
We called Margaret.
She brought employment records.
Eleven maids in five years.
We started contacting them.
Seven refused to speak.
Two numbers were disconnected.
One woman said she had been accused of stealing jewelry.
Another had supposedly damaged a company vehicle she had never driven.
Small incidents.
Nothing like mine.
But a pattern existed.
Women who noticed too much were pushed out.
At noon, one former maid returned our call.
Sofia Ramirez.
She had worked for Luca three years earlier.
“I saw papers,” she said.
“What kind?” I asked.
“Transfers.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Crown Holdings?”
Silence.
Then Sofia whispered, “How do you know that?”
Luca leaned closer to the speaker.
“What happened?”
“I told Mr. Vale.”
“Adrian?” I asked.
“No.”
Everyone froze.
Sofia continued.
“His father.”
Peter Vale.
Adrian’s father was supposedly retired by then.
“He came to the mansion sometimes,” Sofia said. “I thought he still worked there.”
“What did he say?”
“That I misunderstood the documents.”
“And afterward?”
“Someone put an expensive necklace in my bag.”
My stomach dropped.
“You were framed.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t Luca know?”
“I was too scared.”
She ended the call.
Adrian looked sick.
“My father.”
Luca remained silent.
“Peter did this for years.”
Adrian stood.
“He framed employees. Hid transfers. Manipulated companies.”
“Did you know?” Luca asked.
“No.”
“Think.”
Adrian turned away.
“There were meetings.”
“What meetings?”
“My father and Matteo.”
Matteo’s eyes hardened.
“This is absurd.”
Adrian ignored him.
“Daniel sometimes attended.”
Luca looked between them.
“The King isn’t one man.”
Adrian nodded.
“My father built a circle.”
Crown.
Not a person.
A network.
Peter Vale may have started it.
But he was dead.
Which meant someone else had inherited control.
We searched Peter’s old records.
An offshore safe-deposit record referenced something called Crown Seven.
Seven members.
Three deceased.
Peter Vale.
Lorenzo Moretti.
A businessman named Charles Pierce.
Four unknown.
One of them could be Matteo.
One Daniel.
Possibly others.
Then Rachel called.
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
“We have a problem.”
“How new?”
“The account in your name transferred money twenty minutes ago.”
My stomach dropped.
“I’m sitting in Luca’s office.”
“I know.”
“To where?”
She paused.
“Rockford.”
Every muscle in my body froze.
“What?”
“The destination is a property trust.”
“Who owns it?”
Another pause.
“Your mother.”
I stood so quickly the chair fell.
“No.”
Luca was already moving.
“What happened?”
I put Rachel on speaker.
She explained.
Two million dollars had been transferred into a trust connected to my mother’s house.
Someone wasn’t merely framing me anymore.
They were dragging Mom into it.
Then my phone rang.
Her number.
I answered immediately.
“Mom?”
A man spoke.
Calm.
Older.
Familiar.
“Hello, Claire.”
I looked at Luca.
The voice continued.
“I think it’s time you stopped asking questions.”
I knew that voice.
Everyone in the mansion did.
May you like
Daniel Russo.
And he was calling from inside my mother’s house.
