Chapter 3 - What Sofia Knew
Matteo reached Clara's door before she could open it.
“Stay inside.”
“Someone just broke something.”
“I noticed.”
Bruno stood beside him, body alert.
Clara handed Matteo the photograph.
He looked down.
His expression changed instantly.
“Where?”
“Under my pillow.”
Matteo raised his eyes.
That frightened him more than the broken glass.
Someone had entered Clara's new room before she arrived.
Someone who knew exactly where Matteo planned to place her.
He called security.
Within minutes, the house came alive.
The broken glass came from the conservatory.
A window had been shattered.
Nothing appeared stolen.
But on the floor lay Bruno's old leather collar.
Matteo recognized it immediately.
Sofia had bought it.
Someone was sending messages.
And the messages were becoming personal.
The next morning, Matteo suspended Grant from his duties pending an internal investigation.
Grant did not protest.
That bothered Clara.
He seemed almost prepared.
Matteo began examining records from the weeks before Sofia's death.
Clara tried to stay away from the investigation.
She failed.
Bruno made certain of it.
He repeatedly returned to Sofia's old bedroom.
Eventually Matteo unlocked it.
The room had been preserved.
Books.
Photographs.
A piano.
Boxes of veterinary supplies.
“She wanted to open an animal rescue,” Matteo explained.
Clara smiled sadly.
“I think I would have liked her.”
“She would have liked you.”
The sentence settled between them.
Matteo looked away first.
Bruno began scratching at a bookshelf.
Clara approached.
“What is it?”
He scratched again.
Matteo helped move the shelf.
Behind it was a small wall safe.
Matteo stared.
“I didn't know this existed.”
Inside were documents.
Bank records.
Photographs.
And a flash drive.
They took everything to Matteo's study.
The files revealed something unexpected.
Sofia had been investigating financial theft inside the Moretti businesses.
Money had disappeared through shell companies.
Grant's name appeared repeatedly.
But he wasn't alone.
Another name appeared beside his.
Bianca Russo.
Clara felt cold.
“Bianca?”
Matteo said nothing.
The woman everyone assumed would someday become his wife had apparently been connected to the theft.
The flash drive contained an audio recording.
Sofia's voice filled the study.
“If Matteo finds this, I need him to know I wasn't imagining things. Grant and Bianca are moving money. I don't know why yet. And somebody has started following me.”
Matteo closed his eyes.
Clara watched grief move through him.
Four years.
He had believed his sister died in a random accident.
Now he was hearing fear in her voice.
The recording continued.
“There is one more thing. Bruno knows.”
Bruno lifted his head at the sound of Sofia's recorded voice.
Clara's heart broke.
“He was there the night Grant threatened me. Bruno attacked the leash because Grant used it to hold him back.”
Matteo stood abruptly.
Everything connected.
The grooming restraint.
The fear of metal clasps.
Bruno had not been badly trained.
He had been remembering.
Clara reached toward Matteo, then hesitated.
He looked at her hand.
She expected him to move away.
Instead, he took it.
Just for a moment.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered.
Matteo's grip tightened.
“I should have known.”
“You couldn't.”
“She tried to tell me.”
“You trusted people.”
His bitter laugh surprised her.
“That's not a mistake I'm known for making.”
“Maybe that's why it hurts.”
He looked at her.
Something shifted between them.
The investigation accelerated.
Matteo confronted Bianca that afternoon.
Clara was not present, but she heard enough afterward.
Bianca admitted moving money.
She claimed Grant manipulated her.
Grant, meanwhile, disappeared.
His car was found abandoned twenty miles away.
No body.
No phone.
No trace.
The police became involved.
Matteo's security team searched too.
Three days passed.
The estate changed.
Security doubled.
Doors were locked.
Bruno rarely left Clara.
And Matteo barely slept.
One night, Clara found him alone in the kitchen.
He was staring at an untouched cup of coffee.
“You look terrible,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
He almost smiled.
She made tea.
“You don't have to keep solving everything tonight.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.”
Matteo looked up.
Clara sat opposite him.
“You spent four years believing one version of your sister's death. Finding out you may have been wrong doesn't mean you have to understand everything in forty-eight hours.”
He studied her.
“You're surprisingly bossy for someone who dropped soup on herself this morning.”
“That bowl moved.”
“Of course.”
“It did.”
His laugh was quiet.
Clara smiled.
Then neither of them spoke.
The silence changed.
Matteo reached across the table.
His fingers brushed hers.
Clara did not move.
Neither did he.
Bruno sighed dramatically beneath the table.
Clara laughed.
The moment broke.
But not completely.
The following morning brought worse news.
The mechanic who inspected Sofia's wrecked car four years earlier had disappeared shortly after the accident.
His original report was missing.
Someone had replaced it.
Matteo's lawyer located a copy.
Brake failure.
Not accidental failure.
A line had been cut.
Sofia had been murdered.
Matteo read the report without speaking.
Clara stood beside him.
He finally said, “Grant.”
“Maybe.”
Matteo looked at her sharply.
“You don't think so?”
“I think he was involved.”
“But?”
“Everything points too perfectly toward him.”
Matteo stared at her.
Clara continued.
“Grant's coat fabric. Grant in the photograph. Grant's name in the records. Grant disappearing exactly when you investigate him.”
“You think someone is making him the entire story.”
“Yes.”
Matteo slowly nodded.
“Bianca.”
“Maybe.”
Again, Clara hesitated.
“Or someone else.”
That evening, Bianca returned unexpectedly.
She demanded to speak with Matteo.
He agreed.
Clara passed the library during their conversation.
She did not intend to listen.
Then she heard her name.
“Clara is in danger,” Bianca said.
Clara stopped.
Matteo's voice was cold.
“From whom?”
“Grant.”
“You expect me to believe you now?”
“No.”
Bianca sounded exhausted.
“But you should believe this.”
A pause.
“Grant didn't kill Sofia.”
Silence.
Clara moved closer.
Matteo asked, “How do you know?”
“Because I know who did.”
Before Bianca could answer, Bruno began barking downstairs.
Clara turned.
The front doors were open.
Cold air rushed into the foyer.
A security guard lay unconscious near the entrance.
Bruno ran outside.
“Bruno!”
Clara followed.
Matteo shouted her name.
She reached the courtyard.
A car was speeding toward the gate.
Bruno stopped beside something in the snow.
A man.
Grant.
Alive.
Bruised and exhausted.
He raised one hand.
“Don't let Bianca leave.”
Matteo reached them.
Grant looked directly at him.
“She's not the killer.”
Matteo crouched.
“Then who is?”
Grant struggled to speak.
“The man Sofia trusted most.”
Matteo froze.
Grant whispered a name.
And Clara saw something she had never seen before.
Fear on Matteo Moretti's face.
Because the name Grant spoke belonged to Matteo's own uncle.
May you like
Vittorio Moretti.
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