Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN IN RED
Bianca Russo disappeared the following morning.
Her penthouse was empty.
Her phone was disconnected.
And $18 million had vanished from a Belandi Maritime subsidiary.
Marco blamed her immediately.
Elena did not believe him.
Not anymore.
Clare's audit team discovered that the missing money had moved through 4 shell companies before reaching an account in Malta.
The authorization carried Marco's digital signature.
Marco claimed Bianca had stolen his credentials.
Then Thomas found security footage.
Marco himself had entered the authorization room at 2:13 a.m. 3 weeks earlier.
Elena watched the footage twice.
“He knew.”
Clare nodded.
“The question is what he was paying for.”
The answer came from Sicily.
Carlo Vitale found the name attached to the final company.
Adriano Vescari.
Salvatore became silent when he heard it.
Elena noticed immediately.
“Who is he?”
Salvatore looked toward Thomas.
Thomas looked away.
Elena's voice sharpened.
“Stop protecting me from my own life.”
Salvatore finally answered.
“My cousin.”
The man who had allegedly died 18 years earlier.
The man Salvatore now believed had helped arrange Alessia's kidnapping.
Elena felt sick.
“And Marco sent him $18 million?”
“We don't know that.”
“The money says otherwise.”
Salvatore did not argue.
That afternoon Elena was discharged under strict instructions to remain on bed rest.
She refused the Belandi penthouse.
Instead, Salvatore offered a townhouse on East 72nd Street that belonged to a Marino holding company.
Elena accepted only after Clare prepared a lease requiring her to pay rent.
Salvatore looked almost offended.
“You are my daughter.”
“And I'm your tenant.”
Thomas laughed for the first time in days.
The townhouse became a fortress.
But Elena insisted it also become a home.
No armed men inside her bedroom.
No business meetings during meals.
And absolutely no one touching the unfinished crib Thomas had rescued from the penthouse.
“I want to build it myself,” she said.
At 7 months pregnant, on bed rest, she obviously could not.
So Salvatore sat on the nursery floor with an instruction manual.
The Sicilian Don could negotiate a shipping contract across 3 languages.
He could not assemble a crib.
After 40 minutes, Elena looked at the crooked frame.
“You built it backward.”
Salvatore stared at the instructions.
“The instructions are wrong.”
“They have pictures.”
“The pictures are disrespectful.”
Elena laughed.
It surprised both of them.
For 1 brief evening, she had a father.
Then the doorbell rang.
Marco stood outside.
Alone.
He looked exhausted.
Elena almost refused him.
Then she saw what he carried.
The Tiffany box.
His father's repaired watch.
“You left this at the hotel.”
Elena let him into the foyer but no farther.
Marco held out the box.
“I opened it.”
“I assumed you would.”
“Why did you repair it?”
“Because I was stupid enough to think remembering your father might help you remember yourself.”
His face tightened.
“Elena, I screwed up.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I can explain that.”
“You called me a cheap toy.”
“I can't explain that.”
At least that was true.
Marco looked toward her stomach.
“How is he?”
The question came days too late.
“Stable.”
“Can I—”
His hand moved instinctively.
Elena stepped back.
Marco froze.
Pain crossed his face.
He lowered his hand.
“I deserve that.”
“Yes.”
“I never wanted you hurt.”
“You sent men after me.”
“To retrieve the laptop.”
“You told me to go home while I was in labor.”
“I panicked.”
“No, Marco. You prioritized control.”
He had no answer.
Then Elena asked the question that mattered.
“Why did you send $18 million to Adriano Vescari?”
Marco's face emptied.
That was answer enough.
“Who told you that name?”
“My attorneys.”
“Elena, listen to me. Salvatore Marino is not rescuing you.”
“Don't change the subject.”
“Vescari approached me 8 months ago.”
“Why?”
“He knew who you were.”
Elena stopped breathing.
Eight months.
Marco had known before the gala.
Before Bianca.
Before the pregnancy entered its third trimester.
“You knew?”
“Not for certain.”
“You knew enough to pay him.”
Marco stepped closer.
“He said if Salvatore discovered you were alive, everything would change. Our company. Our marriage. Everything.”
“So you hid me.”
“I protected what we built.”
“You protected yourself.”
His silence admitted it.
Elena suddenly understood Bianca's arrival.
Marco had not merely fallen for another woman.
He had been preparing.
Russo money.
European connections.
Removing Elena's corporate interests.
Discrediting her publicly.
If the Marino family reclaimed its daughter, Marco wanted Elena legally weakened before she learned how powerful she actually was.
The cruelty at the gala had not been impulsive.
It had been strategy.
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
“That is worse than cheating.”
Marco's face crumpled.
“I was afraid I'd lose you.”
“So you destroyed me first?”
He reached toward her.
She backed away.
Thomas appeared at the end of the hallway.
Marco stopped.
Elena opened the door.
“Leave.”
“Elena.”
“Leave.”
He walked outside.
Then turned.
“Vescari isn't afraid of Salvatore anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because he has something Salvatore wants.”
Marco's voice dropped.
“Proof of who actually ordered your kidnapping.”
Elena stared at him.
“Who?”
Marco swallowed.
“I don't know.”
A gunshot cracked through the night.
Thomas threw Elena to the floor.
The front window exploded.
Marco staggered backward.
Blood spread across his white shirt.
May you like
And before collapsing on Elena's doorstep, he whispered one word.
“Bianca.”
