Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN EVERYONE OVERLOOKED
"That's Mrs. Alvarez."
Clara's words were barely audible.
Lorenzo took the photograph.
The young woman standing behind the founders wore a navy-blue business suit.
Her hair was dark.
Her expression serious.
But there was no mistaking her eyes.
Elena Alvarez.
Sixty-three years old.
Head of housekeeping at the Moretti estate.
A woman who had worked for the family longer than Clara had been alive.
Lorenzo felt a terrible sense of betrayal.
Elena knew everything about the household.
Every entrance.
Every routine.
Every employee.
Every private disagreement.
She also knew Mia.
The little girl adored her.
"Where is Mia?" Clara asked.
Lorenzo looked up.
"She's with Elena."
Clara gripped the table.
"I left her with Elena."
Lorenzo immediately took out his phone.
He called the estate's main office and instructed the staff to locate Mia and Elena in a public area.
No one was to frighten the child.
No one was to confront Elena.
He wanted the situation handled carefully.
But Clara had already begun walking.
"I need my daughter."
Lorenzo followed.
At the estate, they found Elena in the sunroom.
Mia sat beside her, building a tower from wooden blocks.
The child's pink coat hung over a chair.
Elena looked up as they entered.
Her expression changed when she saw the photograph in Lorenzo's hand.
Clara crossed the room and lifted Mia into her arms.
"Mommy!"
"I'm here, sweetheart."
Mia touched her cheek.
"You sad?"
"A little."
Mia hugged her.
Elena stood.
"Clara, what's happened?"
Lorenzo held out the photograph.
"That's what I came to ask you."
Elena stared.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then she sat down.
"I wondered when this would happen."
Lorenzo felt his patience thinning.
"Who are you?"
"Elena Alvarez."
"That isn't enough."
She looked at him.
"My maiden name was Elena Salerno."
The room went silent.
Lorenzo stared.
"Victor's sister?"
Elena nodded.
Clara held Mia tighter.
Elena's eyes filled.
"I never wanted her involved."
"Then why was her photograph in that room?" Lorenzo demanded.
"I don't know."
"Did you take it?"
"No."
"Did you know someone was watching her?"
Elena hesitated.
Then nodded.
Clara stepped back.
"You knew?"
"I suspected."
"And you said nothing?"
"I was trying to find out who was responsible."
Clara's voice hardened.
"She's three years old."
Elena lowered her head.
"I know."
"Then you should have told me."
"You're right."
There was no excuse.
No attempt to defend herself.
That made Clara's anger feel even heavier.
Lorenzo moved closer.
"Why did you come to work here?"
Elena looked at him.
"To watch over your father."
"Why?"
"Because Victor was destroying everything our family had built."
Lorenzo frowned.
"Victor is your brother."
"Yes."
"And you betrayed him?"
Elena's expression became deeply tired.
"I stopped helping him."
She looked toward Mia.
"There's a difference."
In the library, Elena explained her history.
She had worked as an assistant to Michael Romano during the original partnership.
Victor had been the most charismatic of the founders.
He was brilliant at finding opportunities.
But he also believed rules existed for people without imagination.
When the company grew, Victor began moving money between private ventures.
Antonio discovered the irregularities.
Thomas investigated.
Michael prepared legal safeguards.
Elena helped organize the records.
"Victor thought he could replace the missing funds before anyone noticed," she said.
"Could he?" Lorenzo asked.
"No."
"Then what happened?"
"He became desperate."
Elena looked down.
"He believed Thomas had turned everyone against him."
Clara's expression tightened.
"Thomas only wanted the accounts corrected."
"Yes."
Elena nodded.
"He was a good man."
Clara looked away.
Hearing that from Victor's sister hurt more than she expected.
"Did Victor cause the accident?"
Elena closed her eyes.
"I don't know."
Clara stared.
"You don't know?"
"No. And I've spent eleven years trying to find out."
Lorenzo studied her.
"Then why stay here under another name?"
"Your father asked me to."
"Antonio?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Victor had people inside the company. Antonio needed someone he trusted to protect the original records."
Lorenzo felt the story beginning to rearrange itself.
"Did you create the photographs in the west room?"
"No."
"Did you know the room was being used?"
"Not until recently."
"By whom?"
Elena hesitated.
"I thought Daniel."
Lorenzo shook his head.
"Daniel believed someone else was using it."
Elena looked troubled.
"Then we're missing something."
That evening, Isabella joined them.
She had spent the afternoon reviewing Michael Romano's old papers.
She placed a worn folder on the library table.
"My father kept notes about Victor's investments."
Lorenzo opened it.
Several entries concerned the Hawthorne Family Trust.
Others described fraudulent ownership transfers Victor had attempted years earlier.
Then Isabella pointed to a name repeated throughout the documents.
HENRY VALE.
Lorenzo frowned.
"Who's Henry Vale?"
"An attorney who handled private property transactions."
"Victor's attorney?"
"Sometimes."
Isabella shook her head.
"But he also worked for my father."
Elena leaned closer.
Her expression changed.
"I remember him."
"What was he like?" Lorenzo asked.
"Quiet. Very careful. He never attended meetings unless someone specifically invited him."
Daniel, who had been permitted to join the review under supervision, looked at the name.
"I remember Vale."
"Did he work for Antonio?"
"Occasionally."
Lorenzo examined another page.
A payment had been made to Vale shortly before Thomas's accident.
A large one.
Two hundred thousand dollars.
The description read:
Contingency services.
Clara looked up.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing good unless we find the underlying contract," Isabella replied.
They continued examining the records.
Then Elena pointed to a photograph attached to a later entry.
It showed a younger Henry Vale standing at a company event.
He wore a charcoal suit.
A silver watch gleamed beneath his sleeve.
Clara went still.
"That's him."
Lorenzo turned.
"Who?"
"The man Mia saw by the greenhouse."
Elena stared at the photograph.
Clara's voice trembled.
"He's the man who told my daughter her father had a watch."
Lorenzo examined Vale's face.
Then he looked toward Daniel.
"Where is Henry Vale now?"
Daniel's expression darkened.
"He retired six years ago."
"Where?"
"Manhattan."
Lorenzo looked back at the photograph.
"Find him."
But Elena had already turned another page.
Her hand stopped.
She was looking at a property management receipt.
It concerned the Moretti estate.
The west corridor.
And a recent maintenance authorization.
Signed only two weeks earlier.
HENRY VALE—SPECIAL ACCESS APPROVED.
May you like
Below the authorization was the name of the person who had granted it.
LORENZO MORETTI.
