Chapter 4 - The Price of Getting Involved
The trust was worth more than Sophie could understand.
Not millions.
Hundreds of millions.
Properties.
Warehouses.
Shipping contracts.
Real estate.
Minority stakes in companies Sophie had never heard of.
And one controlling provision.
As long as Maria Russo was mentally competent, she retained final approval over major transfers of the family’s private holdings.
If she became legally incapacitated, authority moved temporarily to a three-person committee.
Antonio.
The family attorney.
And Gabriel Russo.
Sophie read the document twice.
Then looked at Antonio.
“There.”
He hated the word.
“There what?”
“Motive.”
“Potential motive.”
“You want me to say alleged until he sends us a confession?”
“I want facts.”
“Good.”
She pushed the paper toward him.
“Fact. Gabriel hired Lena.”
“Yes.”
“Fact. Maria was repeatedly given incorrect medication.”
“Yes.”
“Fact. Lena falsified logs.”
“Yes.”
“Fact. My apartment was broken into after I noticed.”
Antonio’s eyes darkened.
“That is not proven to be connected.”
Sophie leaned back.
“You’d make a fantastic defense lawyer.”
Maria, sitting across the room, sighed.
“You both need food.”
Neither listened.
Antonio tapped the trust.
“Gabriel cannot control anything alone.”
“But if Maria were declared incompetent?”
“He would have one vote.”
“Could he influence the attorney?”
“No.”
Antonio answered too quickly.
Sophie noticed.
“Who is the attorney?”
“Vincent.”
“The same Vincent you called?”
“Yes.”
“Your friend?”
“Thirty years.”
She looked at him.
“Then check him too.”
Antonio’s face hardened.
“He is family.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is my answer.”
Sophie stood.
“Then I’m done.”
Maria looked up.
Antonio frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t want help. You want confirmation.”
“That’s not true.”
“You only investigate people you already distrust.”
“Sophie—”
“Someone put your mother at risk.”
She pointed toward Maria.
“If loyalty mattered to them the way it matters to you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Antonio stepped closer.
His voice lowered.
“You do not understand the world you are walking into.”
“Then explain it.”
“It is not safe.”
“Neither is medication tampering.”
His jaw flexed.
“You should go back to your own life.”
The words hurt more than they should have.
Sophie covered it.
“Gladly.”
She left.
Antonio did not stop her.
That hurt too.
Sophie rented a room from a coworker at the bakery.
Temporary.
Cheap.
Safe enough.
She returned to double shifts.
Flour.
Coffee.
Burned fingertips.
Normal problems.
She told herself she preferred them.
Three days passed.
No Antonio.
No Maria.
On the fourth day, Maria called.
“I’m angry with him.”
Sophie laughed softly.
“That seems to be going around.”
“He is impossible.”
“He’s worried.”
“He has been worried since he was seven.”
Maria paused.
“His father taught him fear was the same as love.”
Sophie sat on the bakery’s back steps.
“What happened to his father?”
“He died six years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I was not.”
Sophie blinked.
Maria’s voice remained quiet.
“He loved us. In his way. But his way left damage.”
She breathed out.
“Antonio spent half his life trying to become strong enough that nobody could hurt this family again.”
“And now?”
“Now he hurts people by refusing to trust them.”
Sophie looked at her shoes.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you matter to him.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Maria laughed.
“My dear, he asked Carlo whether you prefer coffee or tea.”
“So?”
“My son has known Carlo twelve years and does not know whether Carlo has children.”
Sophie smiled despite herself.
“Antonio is not emotionally efficient.”
“No.”
Maria lowered her voice.
“But he notices you.”
The next evening, Sophie was leaving work when a man stepped from a parked sedan.
Not Antonio.
Gabriel.
She recognized him from a photograph Antonio had shown her.
Early forties.
Expensive coat.
Handsome in a tired, nervous way.
“Sophie Bennett?”
She stopped.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I need to talk.”
“I don’t.”
“Antonio thinks I hurt Maria.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
He looked behind him.
“I hired Lena. That part is true.”
“Why?”
“She came through Vincent.”
Sophie went still.
“Vincent?”
“He said Dr. Moretti’s list wasn’t good enough.”
“You’re lying.”
“I wish.”
“Then why did you disappear?”
Gabriel’s face twisted.
“Because somebody transferred four million dollars through one of my accounts.”
Sophie stared.
“What?”
“I found it the same morning Lena vanished.”
“Go to the police.”
“And explain what?”
“That I work for a family where financial investigations become newspaper headlines before breakfast?”
“So you ran.”
“I panicked.”
“Smart.”
“I know.”
He reached into his coat.
Sophie stepped back.
He slowly pulled out a flash drive.
“I copied the transfer records.”
“Give them to Antonio.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Gabriel looked genuinely afraid.
“Because Vincent knows every legal move Antonio makes before Antonio makes it.”
Sophie’s stomach dropped.
She took the drive.
A black SUV turned onto the street.
Gabriel saw it.
His face drained.
“That’s his car.”
“Antonio?”
“No.”
Gabriel ran.
Sophie turned toward the SUV.
It accelerated.
She stepped back onto the sidewalk.
The vehicle passed.
Dark windows.
No plates.
Her heart hammered.
She called Antonio.
He answered.
“Sophie?”
“We need to talk.”
Twenty minutes later, Antonio stood in the bakery after closing.
He listened without interrupting.
When Sophie said Vincent’s name, his expression barely changed.
“That’s impossible.”
“Gabriel says—”
“Gabriel lies when breathing.”
“He gave me this.”
She held up the drive.
Antonio did not take it.
“You met with him alone?”
“He found me.”
“You should have called me.”
“I’m calling you now.”
“You should have called immediately.”
“Stop.”
“You have no idea—”
“I said stop.”
His voice died.
Sophie stepped closer.
“Your first concern is controlling what I did. Not what I learned.”
“That is not true.”
“It is.”
Antonio looked at the flash drive.
Then her.
“You expect me to believe Gabriel over Vincent?”
“I expect you to check.”
“He has handled my family’s affairs for three decades.”
“And Lena handled Maria’s medications for six months.”
Silence.
Antonio took the drive.
“I’ll review it.”
“With someone outside your circle.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Do not tell me how to handle this.”
Sophie laughed once.
“There you are.”
“What does that mean?”
“The man who only wants advice until it makes him uncomfortable.”
Antonio stepped toward her.
“And there you are. The woman who walks into danger because she thinks good intentions protect her.”
Sophie’s anger flared.
“I didn’t walk into this. Your family brought it to my table.”
The words landed.
Antonio’s face changed.
Sophie immediately regretted them.
But did not take them back.
He lowered his voice.
“You’re right.”
That surprised her.
He looked away.
“For that, I am sorry.”
Sophie stared.
Antonio reached into his coat.
Not money this time.
An envelope.
“What is that?”
“Open it.”
Inside was a letter from St. Catherine’s Nursing College.
Sophie’s heart stopped.
She read the first line.
Re-enrollment eligibility.
She looked up.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing yet.”
“You contacted my school?”
“I asked what it would take for you to return.”
Her face went hot.
“You had no right.”
“I was trying to—”
“To fix me?”
“No.”
“That’s what you do.”
“Sophie.”
“You find a problem and throw power at it.”
“I did not pay anything.”
“Yet.”
He went silent.
She folded the letter.
“I am not one of your projects.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He sounded angry now.
At himself.
At her.
At everything.
“You saved my mother.”
“And that doesn’t make my life yours.”
“I know.”
“Then stop acting like it does.”
She handed the envelope back.
Antonio did not take it.
“Keep it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“It’s information.”
“It came from you.”
His eyes changed.
That hurt him.
Good, a small bitter part of her thought.
Then she hated herself for wanting that.
Antonio took the envelope.
“I understand.”
He turned to leave.
His phone rang.
He answered.
Vincent.
Sophie heard the voice through the speaker for one second.
Antonio walked outside.
That night, someone sent Antonio photographs.
Sophie.
Gabriel.
Outside the bakery.
The flash drive changing hands.
Another photograph showed Sophie entering Gabriel’s apartment building.
Except she never had.
The image was fake.
But convincing.
Along with it came bank records.
A deposit into an account with Sophie’s name.
Fifty thousand dollars.
Antonio arrived at her temporary apartment just before midnight.
His face told her everything.
“You think I did something.”
He held up the photographs.
Sophie stared.
“That’s fake.”
“The bank account?”
“Not mine.”
“Gabriel?”
“I told you exactly what happened.”
Antonio’s expression was stone.
“Did you?”
Sophie stepped back.
There it was.
The thing Maria warned her about.
Trust.
Or the lack of it.
“You believe this?”
“I am asking.”
“No.”
“I need you to answer.”
“I already did.”
“Sophie—”
She opened the door wider.
“Get out.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Turn this into pride.”
She laughed.
“Pride?”
“You are involved in something dangerous. I need clarity.”
“You had clarity.”
She pointed at herself.
“From the first night.”
Her voice shook now.
“I helped your mother when I thought she was just a lonely old woman.”
Antonio flinched.
“I refused your money.”
“I know.”
“I lost my job because of you.”
“I know.”
“My apartment was broken into.”
“I know.”
“And still, the second someone put numbers on paper, you decided maybe I was what?”
She swallowed.
“A liar? A thief? Some waitress who saw a rich man and made a plan?”
“I did not say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Antonio looked down.
Sophie’s eyes burned.
“Leave.”
He did not move.
“Please.”
This time he did.
The next morning, Sophie went to Bellarosa.
She wanted Marco.
He looked shocked to see her.
“I’m not giving you your job back.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Who knows Vincent Russo’s attorney?”
Marco’s face changed.
Sophie saw it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Marco.”
“Go home.”
“You reacted.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
He looked toward the dining room.
Then lowered his voice.
“I saw Vincent here.”
“When?”
“The night Maria got sick.”
Sophie’s pulse jumped.
“Before Antonio arrived?”
“Twenty minutes before.”
“With Maria?”
“No.”
“Lena?”
Marco hesitated.
That was enough.
“You saw them together.”
“In the hallway near the private dining room.”
“What were they doing?”
“Talking.”
“About?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Marco looked ashamed.
“Because it was not my business.”
Sophie stared at him.
That sentence.
Again.
Mind your business.
Marco rubbed his face.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“Lena gave me an envelope.”
Sophie froze.
“What was in it?”
“Five hundred dollars.”
“For what?”
“To switch table assignments.”
“Why?”
“She wanted you serving Maria.”
The room tilted.
Sophie stared.
“What?”
Marco swallowed.
“She specifically asked for you.”
Sophie’s skin went cold.
“But I had never met her.”
“I know.”
“Who told Lena my name?”
Marco shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
A shadow moved outside the glass doors.
Sophie turned.
A man stood across the street.
Watching.
She looked back at Marco.
“Call Antonio.”
Marco paled.
“Sophie—”
May you like
“Now.”
The lights went out.
