Chapter 2 - THE SECOND PHONE
Katarina had purchased the prepaid phone because Joanna would not stop asking.
It was not meant for an affair.
Not meant for secret conversations with Vittorio.
Not meant for anything dramatic.
It was meant for emergencies.
Joanna had placed it in Katarina’s hand inside a coffee shop eight months earlier.
“Put three numbers in it,” she had said.
“Mine. A domestic violence hotline. And 911.”
Katarina had nearly walked out.
She hated the phrase domestic violence.
It sounded like something that happened in documentaries, emergency rooms, courtrooms.
It did not sound like a man who apologized after punching a wall beside her head.
It did not sound like Chase crying because he loved her “too much.”
It did not sound like a boyfriend checking her messages because his last girlfriend had cheated.
It did not sound like expensive dinners after terrible nights.
It did not sound like bruises carefully positioned where clothing could hide them.
Eventually Katarina accepted the phone.
She kept it turned off inside an old shoebox beneath winter sweaters.
Apparently Chase had found it.
Now she stood outside Vittorio’s office staring at the photograph of that phone lying on her bed.
Joanna approached.
“Cat?”
Katarina could not speak.
Joanna took one look at the screen.
Her face changed.
“Don’t go home.”
Katarina’s first reaction was irritation.
Not fear.
Not gratitude.
Irritation.
Everyone kept telling her what to do.
Chase told her what to wear.
When to return home.
Which friends were inappropriate.
How much makeup looked “attention-seeking.”
Now Joanna wanted to decide where she slept.
Vittorio wanted to decide whether home was safe.
Even kindness could feel like another hand on the steering wheel when you had forgotten what choosing felt like.
“I need clothes,” Katarina said.
“I’ll go with you.”
“No.”
“Then police.”
“No.”
Joanna stared.
“You are not walking into that apartment alone.”
“He hasn’t threatened me.”
“He photographed your secret phone and sent it to you.”
“That isn’t a threat.”
Joanna’s expression made Katarina hear the sentence properly.
She looked away.
Nathan stepped into the hallway.
“What happened?”
Katarina locked the phone.
“Nothing.”
Joanna said, “Chase found her emergency phone.”
“Joanna!”
Nathan immediately stopped moving toward them.
His tone remained calm.
“Do you want help?”
Katarina stared.
Not you need help.
Not we’re calling police.
Do you want help?
The question opened a small space inside her chest.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s an acceptable answer.”
Nathan looked toward Vittorio’s office.
“There’s a private conference room downstairs. You can sit there as long as you want.”
“I have work.”
“Katarina,” Joanna whispered.
“I have work.”
Her voice cracked.
For the next three hours she did exactly that.
Worked.
Reconciled calendar invitations.
Corrected meeting notes.
Returned emails.
Ordered conference lunches.
Normal tasks felt like handrails.
At 1:43, Chase texted.
Answer me.
At 1:51:
You know I hate being ignored.
At 2:06:
Did Joanna give you the phone?
Katarina felt sick.
At 2:19:
Were you planning to leave me?
She did not answer.
At 2:27:
If you embarrass me at work, you’ll regret it.
That message changed something.
Not because it was the worst thing Chase had ever said.
Because it connected two worlds Katarina had worked desperately to keep separate.
Home.
Work.
The bruises belonged at home.
Her competence belonged here.
Chase had always hated the separation.
He mocked her loyalty to Servino Holdings.
He complained that Vittorio paid her “just enough to make you think you matter.”
He hated company events where Katarina dressed well.
He hated Joanna.
He hated anything proving Katarina existed outside him.
Now he had used her work badge.
He had entered her office.
Her safe place was no longer separate.
At three o’clock, Katarina walked into Nathan’s office and placed her phone on his desk.
“I want you to see something.”
He read the messages.
His jaw tightened, but his voice stayed neutral.
“Do I have your permission to preserve copies?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want police involved?”
Katarina hesitated.
“Not yet.”
“Okay.”
“You think that’s stupid.”
“No.”
“You’re an attorney.”
“I think your choices belong to you.”
Katarina stared at him.
Nathan continued.
“I also think Chase may be committing crimes unrelated to your relationship. Servino Holdings will cooperate with law enforcement on those regardless.”
“Will you tell him I showed you these?”
“No.”
“Will Vittorio?”
“I need to inform Vittorio about threats affecting company security.”
Her stomach tightened.
Nathan noticed.
“I can tell him only what he needs to know.”
Katarina nodded.
“Okay.”
At 4:12, Vittorio requested her presence again.
This time only he was inside.
Katarina remained beside the door.
“I heard enough,” he said.
Her face burned.
“About Chase?”
“Yes.”
“From Joanna?”
“Nathan.”
She folded her arms.
“I don’t need you handling my personal life.”
“I agree.”
That surprised her.
Vittorio sat behind his desk.
“I need to handle the fact that someone used your credentials to enter my company and may be using your relationship with him to obtain information.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
He pushed a folder toward the empty chair.
“You can look at this or not.”
Katarina approached cautiously.
Inside were copies of Stonebridge invoices.
Several bore her electronic approval initials.
“I didn’t approve these.”
“We know.”
“How?”
“You were on vacation for two of them.”
Katarina looked closer.
The approval credentials were hers.
Someone had copied her login.
Chase had asked for her work laptop password once.
She refused.
He laughed and said he was testing whether she trusted him.
Then three months ago, her laptop disappeared for an hour.
He claimed he moved it away from the kitchen because he spilled coffee.
Her hands trembled.
“He did this.”
“We believe he accessed your credentials.”
“Why?”
“To make the transactions look routine.”
Katarina flipped through the pages.
One invoice was for $184,000 in emergency electrical work that never happened.
Another: $93,500 for elevator maintenance.
Another: $211,000 for security upgrades.
Millions.
“How long?”
“Approximately eighteen months.”
She looked at Vittorio.
“I’ve been dating him two years.”
“Yes.”
The implication made her nauseated.
Had Chase chosen her?
Not loved her and later become controlling.
Chosen her because she worked here?
She sat without meaning to.
Vittorio watched but did not speak.
Katarina whispered, “He met me at a restaurant.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Your employment questionnaire lists where you first met your emergency contact.”
She almost laughed.
“Of course it does.”
“He knew where you worked then?”
“Yes.”
“Immediately?”
“Yes.”
Vittorio’s eyes hardened.
Katarina saw the answer before he said it.
“That doesn’t prove he targeted you.”
“But you think he did.”
“I think we investigate facts.”
Her eyes burned.
“What if none of it was real?”
Vittorio’s expression changed.
“What?”
“Us.”
Her voice became smaller.
“What if he found me because he needed someone inside the company?”
Vittorio leaned forward.
“Whatever Chase intended when he met you does not define what you intended.”
Katarina looked away.
“That sounds like something people say when they don’t know what else to say.”
“Probably.”
She glanced at him.
A faint hint of humor touched his expression.
Then disappeared.
“Someone I cared about once stayed with a man who hurt her.”
Katarina froze.
Vittorio looked toward the family photographs.
“My sister.”
Katarina had never heard anyone mention Vittorio having a sister.
“She’s the woman in that picture?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she now?”
Vittorio went silent long enough that Katarina wished she had not asked.
“She died fourteen years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“He didn’t kill her directly.”
His jaw tightened.
“He drove drunk after an argument. She got into the car because she believed leaving him angry would make things worse.”
Katarina stared.
Vittorio continued.
“For years I hated him.”
“Understandable.”
“I hated myself more.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew.”
His voice remained steady, but his hand closed slowly around a pen.
“I noticed bruises. Explanations. Canceled dinners. The way she apologized for everything.”
Katarina’s throat tightened.
“And you didn’t help?”
“I tried.”
His eyes met hers.
“Badly.”
“What does that mean?”
“I told her to leave him.”
Katarina waited.
“When she refused, I got angry. I told her she was being foolish.”
Vittorio looked away.
“I made her ashamed to tell me when things became worse.”
The room was silent.
“That’s why you don’t push,” Katarina whispered.
“Yes.”
“Because of her.”
“Partly.”
Katarina looked down at her hands.
“No one thinks they’re staying forever.”
Vittorio said nothing.
“You tell yourself you’re waiting for the right week. The right paycheck. The right apartment. The right mood.”
Her voice trembled.
“Then one day you realize you’re planning your footsteps around floorboards.”
Vittorio’s eyes darkened.
But he stayed still.
Katarina stood.
“I’m going home.”
He did not argue.
“I need things.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t want security following me.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t want Chase knowing anything about the investigation.”
“Okay.”
She looked at him suspiciously.
“You’re agreeing too much.”
“I’m trying something new.”
Despite herself, she smiled.
It vanished quickly.
“I’m going with Joanna.”
“Good.”
Katarina reached the door.
Vittorio spoke behind her.
“One request.”
She turned.
“Not an order?”
“No.”
“What?”
“Send Joanna a single word once you leave the apartment.”
“What word?”
“Anything.”
Katarina thought.
“Safe.”
Vittorio nodded.
“Safe.”
At 6:03, Katarina and Joanna reached her building.
The apartment door was unlocked.
Katarina stopped.
Chase never left doors unlocked.
Never.
Joanna whispered, “We leave.”
Katarina should have listened.
Instead she pushed the door open.
The apartment was dark.
Her clothes had been pulled from drawers.
Her work papers covered the living-room floor.
The framed photograph of Katarina and Joanna had been smashed.
On the kitchen counter sat the prepaid phone.
Beside it was a handwritten note.
YOU SHOULD HAVE ANSWERED ME.
Joanna grabbed Katarina’s wrist.
“We’re leaving.”
Then the bedroom door opened.
Chase stepped out.
And smiled.
May you like
“Baby,” he said.
“You’re finally home.”
