Chapter 8 - THE MONEY THAT WAS NEVER MINE
“One million eight hundred forty thousand dollars?”
I stared at my name on the financial statement.
Luca stood beside the library desk.
Daniel remained near the doorway.
Nobody spoke.
The money was supposed to belong to Violet.
Instead, someone had put it in my name.
And for eighteen years, my mother and I had struggled to pay rent.
“I've never seen a penny of this,” I whispered.
Luca examined the statement.
“Neither has your mother, apparently.”
“How can you know?”
“Because these records show the funds were transferred into a custodial structure. We need to establish who controlled it.”
He turned another page.
Then stopped.
“Richard Bellini.”
My stomach sank.
“He was the custodian?”
“For part of the period. The records show several changes.”
I sat down.
Everything suddenly felt unbearable.
My mother's pain.
Her years of silence.
The little girl in the yellow coat.
Anthony's death.
And now money that had been placed under my name without my knowledge.
“Why me?” I whispered.
Luca looked at the photograph.
“Perhaps because your mother was someone Anthony trusted.”
I shook my head.
“That doesn't explain why Richard controlled it.”
“No.”
He closed the folder.
“But we're going to find out.”
Detective Whitcomb arrived the following morning with two financial investigators.
They reviewed the records while I sat beside Luca.
One investigator explained that the trust had originally been established for Violet.
Several amendments had been made after Anthony's death.
The last amendment changed the designated beneficiary.
My name replaced Violet's.
But the trust hadn't been fully distributed.
Instead, portions of the money had been borrowed against, transferred between related companies, and used to secure business obligations.
“Who authorized that?” Luca asked.
The investigator pointed toward a familiar name.
Richard Bellini.
My hands went cold.
“He used my name to move money?”
“That appears possible,” Whitcomb replied. “We're still determining which transactions were authorized and which may have involved fraud.”
I thought of my mother's medical bills.
The overdue notices.
The nights I'd worked double shifts.
Somebody had been using my identity to control a fortune while I struggled to buy groceries.
Luca looked furious.
But I felt something more complicated.
Shame.
As ridiculous as it seemed, I felt ashamed.
My name was on those pages.
I wondered whether everyone would think I'd known.
Whitcomb noticed my expression.
“Claire, appearing on a trust document doesn't mean you participated in anything improper.”
I nodded.
But my stomach remained tight.
That afternoon, Vanessa arrived at the mansion with her attorney.
Luca agreed to meet her in the sitting room while Daniel remained nearby.
I was helping Evelyn with her afternoon exercises when Vanessa's voice rose from downstairs.
“You've decided I'm guilty before anyone has proved anything!”
Luca answered calmly.
“The laboratory found something suspicious in my mother's tea.”
“I didn't know what was in that bottle!”
“Then tell the detective who gave it to you.”
“My father.”
The words stopped me.
Evelyn looked toward the doorway.
I squeezed her hand.
“Stay here. I'll be right back.”
Downstairs, Vanessa was standing beside the fireplace.
Her red gown had been replaced by a cream sweater and dark trousers.
Without the elaborate makeup and jewelry, she looked younger.
And frightened.
Luca stared at her.
“Your father gave you the bottle?”
“Yes.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That it was a calming preparation prescribed through his medical contacts.”
“For my mother?”
Vanessa nodded.
“She hadn't been sleeping. She was anxious around me. Daddy said it would help.”
Luca looked devastated.
“You put something in my mother's tea without asking her physician?”
Vanessa began crying.
“I thought I was helping.”
“Did you?”
She looked away.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then she whispered:
“I wanted her to like me.”
The admission startled me.
Vanessa had been cruel to Evelyn.
Cruel to me.
But beneath that cruelty was something I hadn't expected.
Desperation.
She looked at Luca.
“Your mother never wanted me here. She looked at me like I was dangerous.”
“Perhaps she had reasons.”
“I know that now!”
Her voice broke.
Luca stepped away.
“Why didn't you tell me your father supplied the bottle?”
“Because I was embarrassed. And because I knew how it would look.”
I stood in the doorway.
Vanessa noticed me.
Her expression changed.
“Claire.”
I remained silent.
She looked down.
“I owe you an apology.”
I hadn't expected that.
She swallowed.
“I called you stupid. I threatened your job. I treated you like you didn't matter.”
“No,” I replied quietly. “You treated me like I was disposable.”
Her face crumpled.
“Yes.”
For a moment, I saw genuine regret.
But regret didn't erase what she'd done.
“Mrs. Moretti trusted me,” I said. “You tried to make her feel ashamed of needing help.”
Vanessa nodded.
“I know.”
Then she looked at Luca.
“My father doesn't know I'm here.”
Luca frowned.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because he told me that if I spoke to you again, he'd stop paying my mother's care expenses.”
I froze.
“Your mother?”
Vanessa looked toward me.
“She has advanced Parkinson's disease. She's been living in a private facility for six years.”
Luca's expression changed.
“You told me she was traveling abroad.”
“Daddy told me not to discuss her condition.”
Her voice became smaller.
“He said people would use it against our family.”
I looked at Evelyn's wheelchair.
At the weakness in her hands.
At the cruel things Vanessa had said about her.
Suddenly, I understood something painful.
Vanessa had spent years being taught to hide weakness.
And she'd turned that lesson into cruelty toward anyone who couldn't hide theirs.
But understanding wasn't forgiveness.
Not yet.
“Vanessa,” Luca said, “you need to tell Detective Whitcomb everything.”
She nodded.
“I will.”
Then she reached into her handbag.
Not the one police had collected.
A smaller brown leather purse.
She removed a folded piece of paper.
“Daddy gave me this when we got engaged.”
Luca took it.
“What is it?”
“A list of things I was supposed to do after the wedding.”
He unfolded it.
His expression changed.
I watched his eyes move down the page.
“Transfer the household medical coordinator?”
Vanessa nodded.
“Replace Evelyn's private physician?”
“Yes.”
“Change her legal power of attorney?”
Vanessa began crying again.
“I didn't understand why he cared so much.”
Luca read the final line.
His face went white.
I stepped closer.
“What does it say?”
He slowly turned the paper toward me.
May you like
The instruction was written in Richard Bellini's handwriting.
“AFTER THE WEDDING, HAVE EVELYN DECLARED INCOMPETENT. CLAIRE BENNETT MUST BE REMOVED FROM THE HOUSE BEFORE THE ORIGINAL TRUST RECORDS ARE FOUND.”
