Chapter 2 - THE NAME THAT SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN ON THE LIST
“Answer me, Adrian. Who have you been paying with our father's money?”
Luca Moretti stood at the head of the dining table, still holding the small brass key his mother had given him.
His younger brother didn't answer immediately.
Instead, Adrian looked around at the thirty-six dinner guests, many of whom were pretending they hadn't heard a word.
“Luca, this isn't something we should discuss in front of everyone.”
“Then you should have thought about that before humiliating our mother in front of everyone.”
Vanessa flinched.
I was still standing beside Eleanor Moretti, whose trembling fingers were wrapped around my wrist.
Adrian straightened his jacket.
“You're making accusations without understanding the situation.”
“Then help me understand.”
The two brothers stared at each other.
I had worked in that mansion for eleven months. I'd seen powerful men lower their voices when Luca walked into a room.
But I'd never seen anyone look at him the way Adrian did.
Not with fear.
With resentment.
“You weren't interested in the trust when Dad was alive,” Adrian said. “You weren't interested after he died. Now you want to interrogate me because Sophie overheard something in a hallway?”
Luca's expression hardened.
“This isn't about Sophie.”
“Really? Because suddenly a twenty-five-year-old maid knows more about our family's finances than I do.”
Eleanor released my wrist.
“Don't speak about her that way.”
Adrian looked genuinely startled.
His mother rarely challenged him anymore.
“Mom, I'm trying to protect you.”
“Then stop frightening me.”
The room went quiet.
Luca turned toward the guests.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry. Tonight's celebration is over.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Luca, these people traveled across the country for our engagement.”
“And my mother lives in this house. Apparently, that hasn't stopped people from treating her like an inconvenience.”
Several guests began collecting their coats.
The family attorney, Richard Collins, remained seated.
Luca noticed.
“Richard, did you prepare the documents my mother signed?”
Collins adjusted his glasses.
“No. Adrian retained separate counsel for those matters.”
“Were you informed?”
“Only that a proposed change in trusteeship was being considered.”
“Considered by whom?”
Collins glanced at Eleanor.
“That was never made clear to me.”
Adrian gave an impatient sigh.
“There was nothing illegal about consulting another attorney.”
“Then there should be nothing difficult about showing us the papers.”
For a moment, I thought Adrian would walk out.
Instead, he reached into his jacket and removed a folded sheet of paper.
“This is the current disbursement summary. Look at it before you start accusing anyone of stealing.”
Luca unfolded it.
I watched his eyes move down the page.
“Harbor medical assistance. Temporary housing. Dependent support.”
He looked up.
“These sound like legitimate expenses.”
“Because they are.”
“Then why are people who never worked for us receiving payments?”
Adrian leaned against the table.
“Because the relief fund was never intended exclusively for employees.”
Eleanor lifted her head.
“What?”
Adrian looked at her.
“Dad made arrangements after the Pier Nine accident. Families who weren't officially employed by Moretti Marine still needed help.”
Luca frowned.
“Pier Nine?”
“The loading-platform collapse. Fifteen years ago.”
“I remember the accident.”
“Then you remember the subcontractors.”
Luca's face changed.
I could tell that much was true.
For the first time, Adrian appeared to have an explanation that made sense.
“Dad couldn't compensate those families through the company's insurance,” Adrian continued. “So he used the private trust.”
Eleanor nodded slowly.
“That's what your father told me.”
Luca looked at her.
“You knew?”
“I knew some families were still being helped. I didn't know Adrian had taken over their accounts.”
Adrian spread his hands.
“There. You see? Nobody is stealing anything.”
But Luca wasn't satisfied.
“Then why did you need Mother's signature?”
“Because the existing trust arrangement is outdated. The auditor coming Friday is going to ask questions about every payment.”
“What auditor?”
Adrian hesitated.
“A scheduled independent review.”
“And you didn't think to mention it?”
“You haven't exactly made yourself available.”
The accusation landed.
Luca glanced toward his mother.
Eleanor was staring at the birthday card still lying unopened in her lap.
I watched his expression soften with something that looked painfully like regret.
Then he turned back to Adrian.
“Show me the full report.”
Adrian handed over the remaining pages.
Vanessa moved beside him.
“Luca, I know tonight looks terrible. But Adrian has been managing a very difficult situation.”
“Then why did you tell my mother she couldn't read?”
“I didn't mean it that way.”
“You took away her glasses.”
“She'd been confused about several letters. I was trying to avoid another upsetting incident.”
Eleanor spoke quietly.
“I was confused because nobody would tell me what was happening.”
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Luca returned to the report.
Halfway down the second page, he stopped.
“What is Harbor Bridge Escrow?”
Adrian cleared his throat.
“A payment administrator.”
“For whom?”
“Beneficiaries who need medical or housing assistance.”
“Why not pay them directly?”
“Some have complicated circumstances.”
Luca looked at another entry.
“Twenty-eight thousand six hundred dollars. Medical recovery allocation.”
He read the next line.
Then looked at me.
“Sophie?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Is your mother's name Helen Bennett?”
My heart seemed to stop.
“Yes.”
He turned the document toward me.
There it was.
HELEN BENNETT.
The exact spelling.
The same middle initial.
The correct Chicago mailing address.
Beside her name was a payment marked COMPLETE.
$28,600.
I couldn't understand what I was seeing.
“My mother doesn't receive money from your family,” I said.
Adrian shifted beside the fireplace.
“Perhaps she didn't tell you.”
I looked directly at him.
“My mother tells me every time her nursing bills arrive. I help pay them.”
“Families aren't always completely transparent about financial assistance.”
The suggestion made my face burn.
“Are you saying my mother lied to me?”
“I'm saying you might not know everything.”
Luca stepped between us.
“Careful, Adrian.”
But I couldn't look away from the paper.
There was a date beside the payment.
Six months earlier.
Three weeks after my mother had come home from rehabilitation.
At that time, I'd been choosing between paying her nurse and fixing the brakes on my car.
I'd taken extra shifts.
I'd sold the gold bracelet my grandmother left me.
And somewhere, on a document in this mansion, someone had recorded that my mother received nearly thirty thousand dollars.
Eleanor touched my shoulder.
“Sophie, sweetheart, are you all right?”
I shook my head.
“I don't understand.”
Luca studied the payment information.
“Adrian, where was this money sent?”
“To the authorized administrator.”
“Which bank?”
“I'd have to check.”
“Then check.”
“It's nearly midnight.”
“Someone apparently had time to authorize a payment in my mother's name. You can find out where it went.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
For several seconds, neither brother spoke.
Then Vanessa reached for the paperwork.
“There's probably a simple explanation.”
I pulled the report away before she could touch it.
Every eye turned toward me.
I'd never done anything like that in my life.
But I was thinking about my mother's swollen ankle.
Her careful smile whenever I came home with groceries.
The way she apologized for needing help getting into the shower.
And the bracelet I'd sold because I couldn't afford her next nursing visit.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said, my voice shaking, “my mother has never received this money.”
Luca held my gaze.
“Are you certain?”
“Absolutely.”
Then I pointed at the signature beside the payment confirmation.
It was a name I recognized.
Not my mother's.
Not Adrian's.
Mine.
My blood turned cold.
Because directly beneath the payment was a handwritten authorization:
May you like
Received and approved on behalf of Helen Bennett — Sophie Bennett.
And I had never signed it.
