Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN WHO RAN THROUGH THE GATES
I stared at Margaret.
“You’ve been sending the notes?”
“Some of them.”
That answer was worse than yes.
“You photographed me?”
“No.”
“The hospital?”
“No.”
“Then someone else knows.”
“Yes.”
I looked around the west wing.
I had imagined darkness.
Dust.
Something gothic enough to justify the secrecy.
Instead I found a preserved office.
Old furniture.
Books.
Boxes.
Photographs.
A desk.
Everything frozen sixteen years in the past.
“Marco’s room,” I said.
“His office.”
Margaret nodded.
“He kept records.”
“Of the missing money?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell Luca?”
“Because Luca searches for enemies.”
“And?”
“Marco searched for patterns.”
Margaret opened a cabinet.
Inside were dozens of ledgers.
“He knew somebody was stealing from Lorenzo Moretti’s companies.”
Luca’s father.
“How?”
“Marco was studying accounting.”
Of course.
I almost laughed at the cruelty of it.
“He found exactly what I found.”
“Similar.”
“Halston?”
“No. Different companies.”
“But same method.”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer.
“Who did Marco suspect?”
Margaret looked at me.
“He never wrote the name.”
“Why?”
“He was afraid the records would be found.”
“Then what did he leave?”
“Clues.”
She handed me a ledger.
Dates circled.
Initials.
Locations.
Meeting references.
One repeated symbol appeared beside several transfers.
A small crown.
“What does this mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You worked here then?”
“For Luca’s mother.”
“Did she know?”
Margaret’s face softened.
“She knew Marco was frightened.”
“Why keep this from Luca for sixteen years?”
“Because his mother asked me to.”
That stopped me.
“Why?”
“She believed Luca would destroy himself looking for whoever betrayed Marco.”
“And you think she was wrong?”
Margaret glanced at the locked cabinets.
“No.”
Footsteps sounded outside.
We both froze.
The door opened.
Luca stood there.
Frank behind him.
I had never seen him look that angry.
His eyes went to me.
Then Margaret.
Then the ledger.
“Out.”
“Luca—”
“Claire. Out.”
Margaret stepped forward.
“She needs to know.”
“You don’t decide that.”
“I promised your mother.”
“My mother is dead.”
“And promises don’t die with people.”
The anger left Luca’s face.
Something much more painful replaced it.
“You knew?”
“For sixteen years.”
“You knew these records existed?”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I protected you.”
“You lied to me.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“I watched you become exactly what your mother feared.”
Silence.
Luca looked like she had struck him.
Margaret continued.
“You spent sixteen years surrounding yourself with men you didn’t trust, trying to find betrayal in every room.”
“My brother died.”
“And so did part of you.”
Luca turned away.
I wished I could disappear.
This wasn’t my fight.
Yet somehow I stood at the center of it.
Frank quietly closed the door.
Luca finally asked, “Why Claire?”
Margaret looked at me.
“Because she notices what Marco noticed.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
“She also says no to you.”
Frank coughed suspiciously.
Margaret continued.
“You needed someone you couldn’t intimidate.”
“I did not hire her for that.”
“No. Fate apparently has a sense of humor.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
Luca didn’t.
Margaret explained that one of the previous maids had discovered a hidden file from Marco’s office.
“Elena Torres.”
The woman who had supposedly fled crying through the front gates.
“She didn’t leave because of Luca,” Margaret said.
“Why?”
“She left because somebody threatened her daughter.”
My stomach tightened.
“Where is she?”
“Milwaukee.”
“Can we talk to her?”
“She refused for years.”
Margaret looked at me.
“But last week she contacted me.”
“Why?”
“She heard Luca hired another maid.”
That sounded absurd.
Until Margaret opened a drawer.
Inside was a photograph.
Elena stood beside a teenage girl.
On the back:
IF THE NEW GIRL SEES HALSTON, CALL ME.
I stared.
“She knew about Halston?”
“Apparently.”
“Then she knows who is behind this.”
“Maybe.”
Luca took the photograph.
“Call her.”
Margaret did.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Frank tried another number.
Disconnected.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“Elena’s apartment was cleared out yesterday.”
“By whom?”
“Unknown.”
I felt cold.
“Was she hurt?”
Frank shook his head.
“No evidence. Neighbor says she left carrying luggage.”
“Voluntarily?”
“We don’t know.”
Luca looked at me.
“You’re done.”
“What?”
“This is no longer bookkeeping.”
“I know.”
“You’re leaving Chicago.”
“No.”
His patience snapped.
“Claire.”
I snapped back.
“Stop deciding my life because you’re scared.”
The entire room froze.
Even Margaret looked surprised.
Luca stared at me.
I softened.
“You’re scared,” I repeated.
“Not for yourself.”
He looked away.
That was confirmation enough.
“I’m not Marco,” I said.
His eyes returned to mine.
“You don’t get to save him by controlling me.”
His jaw tightened.
But he listened.
Margaret quietly said, “There’s something else.”
She opened the final cabinet.
Empty.
Except for a rectangular patch of clean wood.
“Marco kept one last ledger here.”
“Where is it?” Luca asked.
“Gone.”
“Since when?”
Margaret swallowed.
“Since the night he died.”
Nobody spoke.
Because whoever had taken Marco’s final ledger sixteen years earlier had known exactly what it contained.
And if that same person was moving money through Halston today, then the theft had never really stopped.
It had only changed names.
That night Frank located Elena.
She hadn’t disappeared.
She had driven back to Chicago.
At 11:20 p.m., the gate intercom rang.
Frank answered.
Then turned toward Luca.
“You need to see this.”
Security footage showed a woman standing outside the iron gates.
Mid-forties.
Terrified.
Holding a sealed plastic bag against her chest.
Elena Torres.
The former maid who had run from the mansion crying years earlier.
Frank opened the gate.
Elena rushed inside.
Before anyone could ask a question, she placed the bag on Luca’s desk.
Inside was an old black ledger.
Marco’s missing ledger.
Luca stared at it.
Elena whispered:
“I stole it the night your brother died.”
May you like
And then she said the sentence that changed everything.
“Because Marco told me the person stealing from your family was going to kill him if he didn’t.”
