Chapter 4 - The Boardroom TrapBy eight that evening, the estate had become a fortress.
Lily thought the additional guards were “new friends.”
Emily understood exactly what they meant.
She refused to leave.
I offered to move both of them to a secure apartment.
“No.”
“That wasn't a request.”
“Then fire me.”
I stared at her.
She crossed her arms.
“You need someone you can trust.”
“I have Marco.”
“Marco can't make pancakes.”
From behind her, Marco said, “She's got me there.”
I gave him a look.
He disappeared.
Emily almost smiled.
Almost.
That was the first moment I noticed how tired she looked.
Not employee tired.
Life tired.
The kind I recognized.
“You've been doing this alone for three years,” I said.
“So have you.”
The words landed harder than expected.
Before I could answer, Lily ran in holding her book.
“Story time.”
“No.”
“You promised.”
“I did not.”
“You said tomorrow.”
“I said go to bed.”
“That was yesterday.”
Emily bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.
I looked between them.
“This feels coordinated.”
“It isn't,” Emily said.
Lily climbed onto the sofa.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting beside her while she read about a bear looking for the moon.
Ridiculous.
And yet, for those ten minutes, the war outside the room disappeared.
At nine, Marco entered.
His face ended the peace.
“We found Vale's apartment.”
“And?”
“Cleaned out.”
“Too clean?”
“Completely.”
He handed me a photograph.
Vale stood beside Salvatore at a medical charity event.
Between them was another man.
Dr. Benjamin Cross.
My father's cardiologist.
The physician who signed Antonio Moretti's death certificate.
I looked at Emily.
She understood.
“My father’s death wasn't natural.”
“We don't know that yet,” Marco warned.
“No. But we know where to look.”
The next morning, I entered Moretti Holdings at 9:02.
Salvatore was already seated.
So were eleven board members.
He stood.
“Nicholas. You look exhausted.”
I almost admired the performance.
“Do I?”
“Sit down.”
“I prefer standing.”
The company attorney cleared his throat.
Salvatore folded his hands.
“This meeting concerns your health and the future stability of the company.”
“Interesting.”
“Nicholas—”
“No. Continue.”
He sighed theatrically.
“For three years, we have watched you deteriorate.”
Deteriorate.
A carefully selected word.
“You sleep perhaps two hours a night. You've become increasingly suspicious. Volatile.”
“Have I?”
Several directors avoided my eyes.
Salvatore produced a medical file.
“Dr. Vale documented serious concerns about your judgment.”
Convenient.
A dead doctor couldn't answer questions.
Salvatore continued.
“For your own protection, we're proposing temporary medical leave.”
“And who assumes executive authority?”
Silence.
Then Salvatore said, “I do.”
There it was.
I walked to the window.
“Uncle, do you remember teaching me chess?”
He looked confused.
“You were eight.”
“You told me amateurs attack the king.”
His face changed slightly.
“Professionals attack everything around him first.”
Nobody moved.
I turned.
“You attacked my sleep. My reputation. My doctors. My board.”
Salvatore's face remained perfectly calm.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
I placed the laboratory report on the table.
Then security footage.
Then my father's letter.
For the first time, his confidence cracked.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“You're accusing me based on the imagination of a sleep-deprived man.”
“No.”
The conference-room doors opened.
Emily entered.
Salvatore stared at her.
I watched recognition hit him.
He knew exactly who she was.
“Emily Carter,” I said.
“Widow of Daniel Carter.”
Three board members shifted uncomfortably.
Salvatore remained silent.
Emily placed Daniel's ledger on the table.
“Eighty-three million dollars,” she said. “That's how much Daniel traced.”
Salvatore smiled.
“A housekeeper is giving financial testimony?”
“No,” I said.
“A forensic accounting firm is.”
Marco entered carrying eleven folders.
One went in front of every director.
Overnight, an independent firm had verified enough of Daniel's work to identify six shell corporations.
Salvatore looked around the table.
His allies suddenly became interested in their documents.
He realized the vote was lost.
Then he laughed.
“You think this is about money?”
That caught my attention.
“What is it about?”
Salvatore leaned back.
“Ask your father.”
“My father is dead.”
“Yes.”
His smile disappeared.
“Because he discovered the same thing you just did.”
Emily went pale.
The room erupted.
I remained still.
“You killed him?”
Salvatore looked almost insulted.
“No.”
That answer surprised me.
“Then who did?”
He looked directly at Emily.
“Her husband knew.”
Emily stepped forward.
“Daniel died six days later.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Salvatore's jaw tightened.
For the first time, he looked afraid.
Not of me.
Of someone else.
“You still don't understand,” he said.
“Understand what?”
“I wasn't poisoning you.”
I pushed the laboratory report toward him.
“Choose your next words carefully.”
“I was keeping you awake.”
“That's supposed to help?”
“Yes.”
The room went silent.
“Why?”
His eyes shifted toward the glass wall.
“Because when you slept deeply, someone came into your room.”
My stomach tightened.
“That was you.”
“Sometimes.”
“Lily saw you.”
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
He leaned forward.
“The sedatives weren't mine.”
I stopped breathing.
“I gave you stimulants because I discovered Vale was drugging you.”
Marco moved closer.
“That's convenient.”
Salvatore ignored him.
“I couldn't expose Vale without exposing myself. Yes, I stole money. Yes, I built accounts overseas. Your father found them. I expected him to destroy me.”
“Instead he died.”
Salvatore nodded slowly.
“And that's when I realized someone else had been stealing too.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
He looked at my father's letter.
“But Antonio did.”
I frowned.
Salvatore tapped the page.
“Read the last ledger.”
Emily opened the metal box.
There were six ledgers.
We had examined five.
The sixth was thinner.
She opened it.
Inside was a list of payments.
Doctors.
Security personnel.
Executives.
Politicians.
Then one recurring designation:
M-17.
Beside it were payments totaling forty-one million dollars.
“What is M-17?” Marco asked.
Salvatore's face went gray.
“That is what got your father killed.”
My phone vibrated.
Security alert.
East wing.
Lily.
I answered immediately.
“Boss!” a guard shouted. “We have an intruder!”
I was already running.
“Emily!”
She followed.
May you like
Then the guard said the words that stopped my heart.
“The child is gone.”
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