Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN WHO WANTED THE HEIR
The next morning, Lorenzo changed the security arrangements at the estate.
He ordered new cameras installed in the hallways and instructed Victor to review every access record from the previous six months.
He said nothing to Vivian.
Instead, he watched her.
At breakfast, she discussed the charity gala, the press, and the growing pressure from the Moretti family's business partners. She spoke with such practiced concern that anyone listening might have believed she was the only person holding the household together.
Then she made a suggestion.
"Perhaps Sophia should be moved to the private wing," Vivian said. "The nursery is too close to the staff rooms."
"Why?"
"Because people come and go. We don't know enough about Elena."
Elena, who had entered with a tray of tea, stopped.
Lorenzo set down his cup.
"Elena found my daughter."
"That's what she claims."
Silence filled the room.
Vivian seemed pleased with herself.
"Forgive me, Lorenzo, but we have no idea what happened between the moment Sophia disappeared and the moment Elena brought her here. The police will ask questions. We should be prepared."
"Then let them ask."
"And if she was involved?"
Elena placed the tray on the table.
"If I wanted money, I had the chance to ask for it."
Vivian looked at her.
"Perhaps you were waiting for a better opportunity."
Lorenzo rose.
"Enough."
Vivian stood too.
"I'm trying to protect your family."
"Then stop treating the woman who saved my daughter like a criminal."
For the first time, Vivian's composure cracked.
She looked at Lorenzo with something close to hatred.
"You've changed."
"No. I've finally started paying attention."
***
That afternoon, a police detective arrived at the estate.
Detective Rachel Hayes had led the investigation into Sophia's disappearance. She was in her early forties, with sharp eyes and a habit of allowing silence to make people uncomfortable.
She interviewed Elena in the library.
"Why didn't you contact the police immediately?"
Elena explained her fear, her confusion, and the child's condition.
Hayes listened without interrupting.
"Do you understand that taking a missing child across state lines—or even moving her without notifying authorities—can create serious legal problems?"
"Yes."
"Do you regret it?"
Elena looked through the library doors toward the nursery.
"I regret not calling for medical help immediately. I regret trying to feed her something I shouldn't have. But I don't regret getting her out of that dumpster."
Hayes studied her.
"Did anyone see you find her?"
"Not that I know of."
"Did anyone follow you?"
"I don't know."
"Did you see a vehicle near the dumpster?"
Elena closed her eyes, searching her memory.
"Maybe. There was a black sedan near the service entrance. I thought it belonged to a guest."
Hayes's expression changed.
"Can you describe the driver?"
"No. I didn't see the driver's face."
The detective made a note.
"There's something else. A witness reported seeing a woman arguing with a man near Central Park shortly before Sophia disappeared. The woman was wearing a dark coat."
Elena remembered the photograph.
"Was she wearing a bracelet?"
Hayes looked up.
"What bracelet?"
Elena hesitated.
She had no proof that Vivian was involved. Accusing her based on a photograph and a suspicious conversation could destroy the fragile trust Lorenzo had begun to offer her.
"I don't know," Elena said. "I'm sorry."
Hayes closed her notebook.
"If you remember anything else, call me directly."
After the detective left, Elena went to the laundry room.
She found Vivian there, standing beside a table covered in folded linens.
"Detective Hayes was here," Vivian said.
"Yes."
"What did you tell her?"
"The truth."
Vivian's eyes narrowed.
"Which truth?"
"That I found Sophia in the dumpster."
Vivian stepped closer.
"You need to be careful, Elena. People like us don't get second chances when we make the wrong accusation."
"People like us?"
Vivian smiled coldly.
"People who don't belong in rooms where decisions are made."
Elena looked at the bracelet on Vivian's wrist.
It was silver, with a small black stone at the center.
"Where did you get that bracelet?"
Vivian's hand moved instinctively toward it.
"Why?"
"I saw one like it in a photograph of Isabella."
For the first time, Vivian looked genuinely afraid.
Then she recovered.
"Isabella gave it to me."
"When?"
"Before she died."
Elena swallowed.
"Why didn't you mention that?"
"Because it's none of your business."
Vivian moved toward the door, then stopped.
"And if you repeat this conversation to Lorenzo, I'll make certain you regret it."
She left.
Elena stood alone in the laundry room, her hands trembling.
She had not imagined Vivian's reaction.
She had seen the fear.
That evening, Lorenzo called her into his office.
Victor stood beside the desk with a tablet.
"We've recovered part of the hotel's missing footage," Lorenzo said.
He turned the screen toward Elena.
The video showed the service entrance at 2:17 a.m.
A black sedan stopped beside the alley.
A man stepped out, opened the trunk, and removed a large bundle.
Then he looked directly toward the camera.
The image was blurry, but Elena recognized the shape of his face.
Victor enlarged the frame.
Lorenzo stared at the screen.
"No," he whispered.
Elena looked at him.
"Who is he?"
Lorenzo's face had turned pale.
The man in the footage was Daniel Cross, Vivian's brother.
May you like
And Daniel Cross had been declared dead eighteen months earlier.
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